I am angry. All the time. I think I have forgotten what it is like not to be angry. I am almost 40, and that’s a long time to be continually ground down by society’s racism and sexism and homophobia and cruelty and greed and this run-on sentence could keep going for another thousand words if I let it.

My husband recently joked (with love) that I was like Homer Simpson in the episode “I Am Furious (Yellow)”, wanting to smash and get revenge on men. He’s not wrong.

But in positive news, I recently celebrated my 15th anniversary with my assbutt (with love) husband, so that’s something.



I feel a lot better today. I am still not certain if I should trust my perception, but it’s the first day in months that time has moved with anything like normalcy, and the suicidal thoughts have been minimal. I believe I was correct that the abilify is what is causing my problems, and now that it is leaving my system I am starting to feel better. We’ll have to see what the future holds, but today I have hope.


I am slowly going crazy

A bit more than a year ago my nurse practitioner put me on wellbutrin. I was doing well enough, but after a time she also suggested abilify as well, and I said yes. I wish I hadn’t. I can’t guarantee the hell I’m currently experiencing is because of the abilify, but I have a solid suspicion that I’m correct, especially after talking to friends who have taken it, too.

I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin most of the time, time drags, I’m constantly restless and I’ve got suicidal thoughts I haven’t had in many, many years, since I was at the deepest of my depression in my late teens and early 20s. I have an appointment with my nurse practitioner coming up soon, but I’ve discontinued the abilify cold turkey, because I need to make a change, I need to. So far it’s going well enough, the side effects haven’t gotten any worse and they seem to possibly be slightly better, but I don’t know how much I can trust my perceptions. It doesn’t help that I injured my shoulder somehow and it’s taking weeks to get better.

Anyway, I’m a mess at the moment, but I’m taking everything day by day and I refuse to give up and let the depression or the drugs win.



I haven’t written anything new in a long, long time. It isn’t writer’s block, I could overcome that. It’s depression. It’s no motivation and my brain fogging up any time I sit down in front of a word processor, or attempting to do anything of consequence, frankly. It’s anything I think of seeming dead and lifeless and wholly uninteresting. Fuck depression, man. Just, seriously.


Surprise, I’m pregnant!

No, not really. I’d honestly rather pull my uterus out with my own two hands than be pregnant again. I’m not pregnant but it is an appropriate way to start my post.

Today is April Fool’s Day, and once again my Facebook feed is filled with people asking that most important of questions: “Is it appropriate to joke about being pregnant?” Well, most are not so much asking the question as stating flat out that it isn’t, and I just can’t agree with them.

Is it lazy comedy? Yes, absolutely. Is it offensive, disrespectful or insensitive? Hell no.

Look, I empathize with people who have suffered loss or are struggling with infertility. I don’t claim to know what it is like to suffer a late term loss or the loss of a living child, nor do I know what it is like to struggle for years to have a child, though I have had two early miscarriages and I did go through a period when I was first married where I struggled to get pregnant before we stopped trying for a few years. Even if I didn’t have those experiences I’m still capable of empathy, though I’m sure some out there, should they read this, will feel I’m lacking.

That said, I just do not believe that making a joke about my own life affects you in a meaningful way. If I were to make a joke about being pregnant (which I wouldn’t because reread the bit about the uterus), I’m not in any way mocking the struggles or losses anyone else has suffered. I’m just not. When my mother died, I wanted nothing more than to have her back, just for even one day. I’d have given anything to have her back. And I will be honest, it stung to see or hear people complaining about their mothers, things that seemed petty to me. But I recognized that it was my issue, that their complaints weren’t mocking my loss, their jokes weren’t aimed at me. After I miscarried the first time, it was hard to see people enjoying what I wanted and lost, but I recognized that it was my issue. It would not have occurred to me, even then, to take offense at someone joking about being pregnant. The world does not stop because I suffer, and other people’s lives very seldom actually affect me.

Now I grant that I have a skewed sense of humor, and I find great catharsis in laughing at what makes many others wince. Today as I was arguing about this, someone said it was no different than making a joke about cancer, which isn’t appropriate because people have cancer. I’m the kind of person that, if I had cancer, I would be the first to be cracking jokes about cancer. I don’t need to have cancer to know this, I already laugh and joke about things that touch on traumas I’ve suffered in my life. Humor is how I deal with life, especially the most challenging parts of it, and I will never apologize for that.

I want to be sensitive, but the larger part of me just wants to say “get over it” if someone else’s joke about their own life bothers you that deeply. If someone mocks your loss, if someone mocks your inability to conceive, then they’re assholes and fuck ’em, but they are not doing that when they joke about being pregnant.


“If I can do it…”

As I was arguing with some people online, as I am wont to do, I realized something that really annoys me. People using the phrase “if I can do it, anyone can”, or any variant including spouses/aunts/uncles/neighbors/dogs/other four legged friends.

Unless it’s something like “I have no legs and I managed to walk to the store, so if I can do it, anyone can”, you probably shouldn’t say it, and even then, you should use most people, not anyone. We all have our unique, individual challenges and circumstances, and judging people based on what we can do or what people we know can do is generally a pretty shitty thing to do. No, just because you managed to do it does not mean that anyone can or should be able to do it, and we need to recognize this if we’re ever able to develop compassion and empathy for our fellow human beings.


Message to so-called progressives*

I don’t care who supports Sanders, I don’t care who supports Clinton, but anyone that says that if their candidate doesn’t win they’re staying home so that the Republicans can fuck up the country and teach people a lesson is a fucking asshole that needs to be punched square in the jaw.

Please note that I’m not saying that you can’t vote your conscience, and if your conscience tells you to stay home/write a candidate in/whatever then do that. But if you are doing it because you are willing to sacrifice those who would suffer the most under the Republicans in this war you’re waging against “the establishment”, so that people realize they need to “wake up”, tell me how you’re one fucking iota different than those who send soldiers to die in wars that they won’t be dying in, because I guaran-damn-tee you it isn’t the people who will suffer the worst that are suggesting burning it all down just to teach people a lesson.

If you claim to be progressive, but you’re willing to sacrifice others because you know that you’re right and everyone else deserves what they get, guess what, it’s you that is really the closet conservative, because you’ve got exactly the same mentality.

*If you read all this and you still don’t get which progressives I’m talking about, I’m sorry, I can’t help you. Please knee-jerk to your heart’s content if it makes you feel better.