Thoughts and Memories

Memory may be imperfect,

but mine lasts a long time.

Some things I remember,

some are lost along the line.

Still, never in my wildest dreams

did I imagine something like this.

Never would I have considered

Taking another swing after a miss.

“If at first you don’t succeed,

try, try again,” said our old friend,

a quote I failed to take to heart

from our Founding Father, Ben.

Now, though, I look around,

bemused and wondering what I see.

Uncertainty and anxiety, my friends,

and the results of severe PTSD.

My memory is long, and I

remember vividly how we

fit together and you inspired

romanticism in poetry from me.

Still, memory is broken in places

and I find myself wondering

just who it is you’ve become, now,

and I can’t stop pondering.

Progress and Moving Forward with Depression

If you check my social media accounts, you'll see positive posts about a mother who loves her family, with nothing to indicate the true nature of the emotional roller coaster I've been riding over the past few weeks. I say, "Things get better every day." And I mean it. Because no matter how upset I am, no matter what I bitch about to my friends in private conversations, the fact remains that I am incredibly grateful for what I have. Yes, I want better. I've always wanted better. But the truth is, what I have is reasonable, for now.

There isn't a lot to get me down, anymore. I'm treating my depression daily. I socialize daily with multiple people--family, friends, acquaintances--and I am getting accustomed to exercising every day, though the means vary while I determine how I can work out with friends (two birds, one stone--socializing and exercising!) who have different schedules. I've really accomplished a great deal in a short amount of time. My accomplishments make me feel like I'm actually moving forward in my life and they give me confidence, knowing that I am in charge of all of my finances. I feel secure in the knowledge of what my bills are, how much they cost each month, and I am confident in my ability to manage future bills that come under my name.

Yet, the depression comes back. I suppose that is why they call it a disorder. I truly believe there is a chemical imbalance in my brain, but I've never been scanned or tested that way. Some of my friends on Facebook post a lot about their depression and how it effects them, how it prevents them from doing things. Now I know that most of that is bullshit, though I certainly bought into it over the past few years. However, that doesn't mean depression isn't persistent.

One friend, in particular, told me that when he was the most active, exercising regularly, he still wanted to kill himself. He still felt depressed and deeply unhappy. Some of the things he posts indicate that he uses the depression as a crutch, trying to make people believe that he cannot do things based on the depression he feels. From where I now sit, I know that is not true. He can accomplish things as long as he has support. Sure, the depression could come back. After all, I had a great day yesterday, really, and still the depression hit me with full force after everyone had gone to bed. While I waited for my bedsheets to dry, I found myself crying while folding clothes and text-bombing my gossip buddy about my feelings. Thankfully, he was there to respond, though he was at work.

My support is not exactly what I thought it should be. I'm staying with my grandparents, which is simultaneously supportive and restrictive. I have only so much time I can spend online each day; my grandmother insists that I accomplish tasks and prioritize according to what she thinks is most important; I can't just drive out to see my friends at any given time I feel like because, while I love my electric car and it does what I need, it does not get the range to keep going out all day and it doesn't charge as quickly as someone can fill a fuel tank.

However, I am free to leave almost at whim. I am free to go to the gym on base and work out, take care of my errands and important tasks independently, and use the Internet to update my blog and social media, albeit briefly each day. My family surrounds me and I have my daughter. She is the most important person in the world. She is the most important thing in the universe to me. She deserves the world; she deserves better than anything I've experienced. She deserves the kind of love I've only dreamed about due to lack of examples in my life. And she loves me. Nothing is better than her love, her hugs, cuddles, and kisses, and her sweet voice as she says, "Me wuv you, Mommy."

Finding the words for my blog this month has been difficult. A large part of me wants to sit here and bitch, like this is my private journal, where I write all of my nasty, private thoughts down so that I don't spew them at those undeserving. But the fact is, what I am working on now is how to better my own behavior and language. How can I stay on task and keep up on what I know I need to accomplish on a daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly basis?

Lists. Naturally, my grandmother recommends that I make a list for everything and have an alarm for the rest, since I have alarms set to keep me on track with Persephone's potty schedule. It works. She's had dry pull-ups for about three consecutive days with only poop accidents. She has yet to poop in the potty, but I know it will come. She makes me so proud every day, the way she sings songs we've been singing to her, she asks to go to the park, she eagerly brushes her teeth and pitter-patters off to bed each night (as long as she's not overly tired, in which case she fights tooth and nail like any small child). So far, making lists and setting alarms has worked for me. So, I'll continue with them and see how I can be as efficient as possible (after all, no one wants to hear a phone alarm go off every 5 minutes).

Worthwhile Endeavors

Often, we hear people say to each other, “It’s not worth it.” This phrase is used in many contexts:

·         “Yo, bro, she’s not worth it,” might be translated to:

o   “It’s not worth putting forth the social and emotional effort to make a connection with this woman because she will not give you the results you desire.”

·         “He’s not worth it,” might mean:

o   “It’s better not to get emotionally involved with him because his lifestyle habits are sure to break your heart in the long run.”

o   “It’s not worth putting your heart and soul into someone who cannot reciprocate your feelings.”

·         “Lol it’s not worth it,” could mean:

o   “It isn’t worth attempting to explain your point of view to this person because they will not listen.”

o   “It’s not worth taking time and effort out of my day to provide you with information you could easily find yourself when I know you won’t appreciate it.”

o   “It isn’t worth deliberating political ideologies/religious beliefs because you cannot see past misinformation and falsehoods to accept empirical data and facts.”

·         Other uses include:

o   “It’s not worth looking for food in that part of the forest because the only thing that grows there is poison oak.”

o   “It’s not worth looking for psychedelic mushrooms in the woods because the best ones grow on the edges of open fields.”

In all of these cases, you will notice that there is specificity. What is the thing someone wants to and why is it not worth doing? I think today’s society has begun to drop the specificity from this phrase, using it vaguely to avoid confrontation, discourse, and engagement with other people socially.

I recently commented on a friend’s status on Facebook. She’s going through a difficult time; her baby daddy is an alcoholic and she recently ended the relationship with him, she’s pregnant with their second baby and the dad is still living with her as a roommate because she works herself to the bone to provide for the house but doesn’t make enough money to support herself and her babies alone… There’s a lot going on in her life and I find myself doing everything in my power, in my own busy life, to support her and offer my sympathy, empathy, advice, and past experiences for her to think about.

I will not deny that I have a specific set of life experiences that my friends do not and, in some ways, this gives me an advantage in perspective. I strive to use this to others’ advantages, as well, by providing insight and information where I see opportunity. My hopes are that when I am incorrect on any topic, someone will correct me with the same level of respect I provide.

In the status upon which I recently commented, someone else commented, “I’ll pray for you.” I’ve seen this many times as well and have come to realize that it is a highly unhelpful thing to say to someone who is going through a hard time, especially when they have expressed specifics of their hardship and left open ways in which others can actually offer assistance. So, I clicked reply and said, “Curious: How is that helpful?” I was prepared to be ignored or even to have a response come from the commenter along the lines of, “Mind your own business,” or, “It’s how I show support.” I would have accepted a multitude of different answers or even no answer at all, but the response I received was from relatives of the person I’d asked, none of whom saw fit to actually answer the question and all of whom thought it better to use sarcasm and intolerance when conversing with me. The exception was the person to whom I’d asked the question; she remained calm and detached throughout, ignoring my question entirely while chiming in a couple of times with a witty remark.

Thus ensued a long thread of comments in response to my question, wherein one particular “sister” of the original commenter took quite a bit of time and energy to engage with me and even send me a private message. Her message was one of clear projection wherein she said that my cheery disposition didn’t “fool” her and that I should remain silent any time someone says they’re going to pray. Naturally, she mentioned something about knowing my place…

I responded, so naturally, she had to have the last word, and her last message to me was sent directly prior to her adding me to her blocked list. That was a bummer because I had a pretty good response to her. I’ll include it at the end of this entry.

When I realized she had blocked me and my message wouldn’t go through, I checked my notifications again to see a response to the thread that had blown up due to my question. I clicked the notification and read the response, giving it some thought before typing my own reply. Unfortunately, that didn’t go through either, as the original comment upon which we were all replying had been deleted from the status. The last reply read, “it’s not worth it,” thus, the subject of this entry. My response to such a claim was to ask what, exactly, was not worth what.

I think, in times like these, those who say, “It’s not worth it,” think they are saying, “It’s not worth talking to this person because they won’t understand you,” but are actually saying, “It’s not worth putting time and energy into a discussion if it could change your mind about a subject; conversations are only worthwhile when those engaging in it are already in agreement.” This is a rather abhorrent thought, as it is the kind of thinking I believe perpetuates stupidity and resistance to change and progress.

What perplexes me about her response, in this case, was the fact that I had made a point of commending the person with whom I disagreed. I pointed out the admirability of her ability to stay up for long hours late at night in order to provide support to our mutual friend. That is, after all, no small feat. Naturally, though, as is the case with many discussions begun with pseudo-religious hard-headed zealots, my kindness was ignored in favor of cherry-picking as much as they could find to prove how much of an asshole I am.

As promised, her last message is included here; it told me that my question was completely impolite—at this point, I think we could agree to disagree—and that I’m one of those people who thinks my opinions are all superior to everyone else’s. She then told me that she doesn’t “have time for this childish behavior,” and told me to have a good day while she went off to click “block” on me. My response, which failed to go through due to the block, was as follows:

It's cute that you took so much time already to engage in so much discourse with me when you don't have time for it and you think it's childish. "Curious: How is that helpful?" is an open-ended question that can be answered very simply or ignored. If you're so offended, great, be offended. I am responsible for what I say, not how you interpret it. You are responsible for your own feelings. If I offended you, good; you probably needed it. People need to stop being so easily offended. Have a good day, yourself.
P.S., it's good that you know how to use the block feature on Facebook. Enjoy the hole in the sand you use to shield your head.