Hallway to Nowhere

  • Hedgehog Me

    I was told yesterday that I’m “prickly and difficult”. While I do not dispute this, I do have an explanation (not a defense) for my hedgehog self. I didn’t share this with the person who called me so, b/c I did not wish to do so much self-disclosure. She was having HER time, and I didn’t wish to intrude.

    In interpersonal space, I often come across as abrupt, no-nonsense, and all-business. I make weird jokes or references. I might seem like someone who doesn’t quite get it, if by “it” you mean “normal social interaction.” There’s a reason for this: I DON’T. You see, I’m autistic. We suspect. I’ve never been formally diagnosed. (How my parents missed THAT, I don’t know. My guess is they were so busy dealing with the PHYSICAL stuff that accompanied me being so premature AND being thankful that I escaped gross neurological impairment , that this slipped past everyone. Everyone just lumped EVERYTHING that was weird, off, unusual about me in a category that was labelled “oh that’s just K”.) For years I thought it WAS just me, until an astute doctor said, “hold on a minute, I think you might be autistic!” I had had YEARS of therapy by then, including therapy designed to teach me “how to human,” so that I could at least function in society. But I don’t pass very well. I’ll always be an obvious interloper. But it’s okay now. I don’t NEED to be human (anymore).  I like who and what I am just fine. Prickles and all.

  • What Do I Want?-The Depression Question.

    I should be feeling good right now. I had two successful visits. (One I didn’t know how it would go. But it went smoothly. And I handled having a house guest in my space much better than I thought I would. ) And seeing T is always great. We plot our plans for world domination and our escape route, should the zombie apocalypse occur. The same things we were doing back in college, minus the hoagies from that family-owned shop whose name I can’t recall. This time I cooked: socca with Gazan smashed avocado spread with zhug and a fig, olive, and walnut tapenade for starters; a minted jeweled cold lentil salad for the main course with a side of sliced tomato drizzled with 18- yr old balsamic, and for dessert, an assortment: crack cookies, GF coconut bites with choc dips, and choc covered grapes. She loved everything! Then she took me to the evil empire (Walmart version, not Steve Smith’s version) and bought me a new vacuum cleaner for my bday! It’s a good thing I pay attention to shelf talkers, b/c it rang up for 20.00 more than advertised. I insisted that we go get this rectified. 20.00 is 20.00.  and they did fix it without demur. Just took a bit of waiting in line. I do things like this. She said she wouldn’t have.

    During these visits, I was aware of a hollowness. I feel….broken. I have a rich life: friends, a valued place in the community; a job (s); a beloved companion. BUT. I hurt. I am bleeding  out emotionally. I don’t WANT to be. I fight this. I take walks in nature (without headphones, with Miss P.) I practice mindfulness and meditate. I take as good care of myself as I can. And yet. And yet. This is there. This is constant. What do I want? I’m afraid. I’m at that point of depression where if someone put two vials in front of me, one that would make me NOT EXIST and one that would just REMOVE THE DEPRESSION? Pretty sure I’d choose the NOT EXIST option.

  • Letter To R

    I doubt this will ever be sent to OR read by R. Here goes:

    I’m sorry if I’ve sounded harsh, judgmental, or dismissive of your choice of graduate school. I do not mean to be. In previous times, your choice of attending a divinity school over law school would not trouble me as much. But these are different days than even five years ago. You are 28. You are LGBTQ. These two things are worth noting, in my opinion. Your age makes you a bit older, which is good but also gives you a time factor. You might feel right now that you have all the time in the world to explore your options and even change your mind. The dire straits forced upon the world by the climate crisis will directly impact your generation front and center, though all of us on the planet will have to reckon with it. There is an urgency to everything that was lacking in my day. We are running out of time for everything. We do not have the same luxury to make false starts.

    Second. You are LGBTQ. You have said several times that you don’t intend to become a minister but intend to use this as a tool to continue your work in community organizing and held up William Barbour as an example. But William Barbour is able to be so effective partly b/c his organizing grows out of his deep and abiding religious faith, as well as his wonderful humanity. As an LGBTQ individual, I fear that you will struggle to find a place in a community-any community-once you receive your M.Div. It is NOT getting easier for LGBTQ individuals in this country right now in ANY respect but most especially so vis-a-vis the faith community in many Christian denominations. If I  had seen a calling  to become a minister, I would feel less trepidation at what potentially awaits you.  I fear for your future, though. It will a hard road, I predict. The William Barbours and MLKs of the world have it very difficult when they are hetero and have a strong faith. What vilification awaits you?

    But perhaps I will be wrong. You might have a conviction I know not of already. OR you might have your own personal “Damascus road” experience that will give you strength, faith, and a resounding voice to speak such truth to power that that those who would castigate you (impiously) in the name of their god would at the very least hear you. I hope that I am. But whatever befalls you, I wish you the best . I  will follow your progress. You are one of your generation’s voices. I’m happy I got to know you for a bit. I hope you succeed in your endeavors.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

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  • Here I Am Again In A Black Hole

    Here I Am Again In A Black Hole

    Everything should be going well, right? I just had a birthday celebration last night. Friends took me out. I had a room full of people singing HAPPY BIRTHDAY to me. Good food, well wishes, and great company. Even decent music ( Jack sees to that). I went to the FM this morning, caught the haps and the local buzz, bought my minimum-required produce, and hung out for a bit.  My whippet is caught up on stuff til next month. I’m getting ready for company coming from out of town this week.

    AND I’m sitting here feeling so desperate. I saw my Pdoc last week. I gave him my manifesto (Standing On The Edge Of A Cliff). I have friends who have other devastating diseases, including cancer. This is comparable, except that it is invisible. (Maybe, Idk.) I don’t talk about how I do most activities while dragging my depression around like a weight around on my back. Or while having the constant refrain of suicidal thoughts playing in the background. If you’ve not ever attempted to act like you’re living a normal life while that’s going on, let me tell you, it’s not fucking easy.  Is it any wonder I’m behind on some APEC and FOL assignments? I’m a little distracted right now, sorry.

    That I manage to do gross ADLS right now is pretty impressive, never mind that I’m cooking for friends, going to meetings, and making presentations.  When I walk to the library, what stops me from “accidentally” standing in front of a car is the thought that I could hurt someone else. Or if I had a train-involved death, that could also traumatize an innocent bystander. All I want is to disappear and cause as little fuss as possible for those around me. I don’t hate myself or anything like that. I was trying to explain this to the Pdoc. I feel a lot of….overwhelming emotional pain and grief right now. IT HURTS to exist. And I’m tired. So tired. I’ve been fighting depression and various physical things ALL OF MY LIFE. (Part of the deal when you are so premature, I know. But still.)

  • Really Trying Here-Another Blog About Depression

    Really Trying Here-Another Blog About Depression

    This is another entry that won’t get posted to social media. My birthday is coming up on the 15th. I’ll be 58. Big whoop. I’m not doing anything to celebrate, other than not killing myself. (Little morbid humor here.) I’m giving a few presents to friends, since that’s a thing started in my family. On your birthday, you give stuff to significant others to say “thank you”.  People think it’s weird. I don’t care. On FB for my birthday donation org, I requested people donate to the National Suicide Hotline. Fitting, no? I’ve not called during this bout…yet. I’m saving that for my last desperate moments.

    So what am I doing now? I tried to resign my position with VA ORG. I was told by the powers that be that they decided to ignore that decision. I informed them that I might show up at meetings now wearing a shirt that bears the words NO RESPECT. Lol. I had an LTE get published. I’ve had meetings out the wazoo. I had to go INTO the library to work, as opposed to working from home. I’ve had 2 friends over to eat, thereby violating my “no millennials” rule I had established a while back.  I even went out for a drink. So I’ve been active.

    And the entire time I’ve been actively depressed, desperately so. As in on the verge. I’ve found a home for Miss P, should I cease to exist. I’ve given dishes away. I’ve thought about who should get my teaware. I’ve thought about how I would pack everything I own in neat boxes to given to the appropriate organization, if I decided to kill myself. I don’t own much. It would not take long. I could do it in one day. I’ve thought about this.

    I’ve been telling people I’m struggling. This really shouldn’t surprise anyone who knows me. I’m not quite there yet. But the drumbeats  are getting louder….

  • Why Appalachia Needs Immigrants

    The following is a repost of a LTE I had published recently in the Bristol Herald Courier. I could have made a much more nuanced argument but for brevity’s sake decided to K-I-S-S.

    The other day I overheard a person (white older male) comment that that he was tired of seeing all these immigrants coming in and stealing jobs away from good, hard-working Americans and he esp. didn’t want any of them around HERE! I felt compelled then to answer him in this letter. Sir, have you noticed that the population of SWVA is shrinking? We are losing folks, not gaining them. The young people are leaving, by and large, and it is the habit of old people to die. That alone would seem a rather good reason to be welcoming immigrants, not discouraging them. And, let me say, they are indeed NOT taking jobs away from hard-working Americans. Have you seen any immigrants lazing around the streets or just hanging out at a coffee shop? I’d hazard a guess not. Chances are the immigrants you HAVE seen have most likely been working harder than many Americans would at the jobs they have and doing them very efficiently while learning a new language, to boot. Think about that the next time you talk about stealing jobs. And have you SEEN all the “help wanted” signs out? Americans aren’t lining up for these jobs. Finally, and I can’t believe I’m having to say this, WE ARE ALL IMMIGRANTS, indigenous inhabitants excepted (and they too originally walked from somewhere else). It’s just a matter of when did we get here? The United States was founded by immigrants; it has traditionally welcomed immigrants; and that has long been a source of pride and strength for this nation. It can be for APPALACHIA, too. If we let it.

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  • Close Encounters Of The Creepy Kind

    Yesterday I had an up-close and personal encounter that was beyond creepy. It was with two Melaleuca devotees, the company, not tea tree products in general. This was my second brush with this particular scam, and it confirmed my general STRONG feeling that these folks are just icky, as well as as determined to part you from your money. Here’s what went down:

    I had found a flyer at the library for an outfit called The Company Store claiming to sell organic cleaning products and offering free samples. I was curious and called the number for the rep but also instructed them NOT to return my call if they represented a MLM. I had MELALEUCA as a company in mind specifically, since I had had an unpleasant brush with them early in the 90s and did not care to repeat it. I got a return phone call, and the woman assured me she did NOT represent a MLM, she said she was local, and would like to meet with me to show me what she could offer. I said that I was looking for a way to cut down on my use of plastics in my cleaning products, wanted a plant-based cleaning system, and had to  be extremely cautious about switching from my current products (METHOD).  We agreed to meet at the library.

    I’m at the library, and a couple shows up. Right away I get an odd vibe from them. It’s a HOT day, yet the man is wearing a long-sleeved shirt completely buttoned up. But, okay, whatever. The woman is dressed in standard Walmart. So they proceed to tell me THEY REPRESENT MELALEUCA!!! I audibly groan and inform them that I’ve already been through one go-round with Melaleuca,and didn’t I ask you NOT to return my call if you represented a MLM? Oh, it’s not a MLM, they assure me. (They obviously think I’m stupid here.) Then the dude proceeds to pull out a bottle of Melaleuca Tea Tree Oil and tell me WHAT IT IS. (Hello, I’ve already told you I know what Melaleuca IS???) Then they go into their spiel and give me the hard sell, which I have explained to them was PRECISELY what drove me away the FIRST time, aside from the poor products, the point system, and the fact that the whole thing is a fucking scam. They explained that “all you need to spend per month to remain a member is 80.00!” Well, geez, 80.00 on products that aren’t what they claim to be (organic), don’t work, and cost a heck of a lot more than my products that DO work? SIGN ME UP, JACK!!! NOT! These folks just didn’t hear me….

    And here is where the creepiness REALLY amps up: religion was just oozing all over this meeting. This was a Saturday, right? Well, these folks were on their way to CHURCH afterwards. And that’s fine. Good for them. BUT…they had taken note of my name. At the end of the meeting they asked if I were Jewish. I said yes. The guy pulled out a TALLIS and said that his pastor is teaching his weird Jews-for Jesus-type church Hebrew (but  pretty sure  that they have no actual Jews, just Christians doing their own Jew-ish-oid thing).  He then invited me to attend. Ummm, that would a firm “no, thank you.”  I had an encounter with a similar maybe even the same group years before when I lived here. My chiropractor violated HIPAA,  disclosed my deets to this little merry band of whatevs, and they hounded me: phone calls; flyers; even showed up at my residence.  But now I know attorneys….a fair amount of attorneys, and I’m not afraid to call upon them. I will find out what I can do to legally restrain your harassment this time, church or not. Ugh. I DO NOT NEED THIS.

    Throughout all of this I was very polite to these people. I was never disdainful or rude, even when they went into their Hebrew Christian speech (and that sort of thing REALLY pisses me off.) I just gave a nod and said something neutral.  But these folks prey on people, IMO. People who might not realize that they are getting into a MLM with substandard products that WILL pressure you to BUY products you might not be able to afford AND to recruit other people into their little pyramid scheme.  If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck,  looks a duck,  and tests genetically as a duck, I’m sorry, IT’S A FUCKING DUCK. Don’t lie to my face and tell me, “It’s not a duck (MLM)!”

  • Standing On The Edge Of A Cliff

    Standing On The Edge Of A Cliff

    This entry won’t get posted to any of my other social media. I’ve learned that no-one wants to hear about depression. I don’t blame them. People have their own IRL problems-illness, family things, plumbing, what have you, that they are dealing with. So I’m just going to keep it here. If someone reads it, fine. IF not, that’s cool too. I’m writing b/c I have no fucking mental health care any longer and this is now my outlet.

    I am dealing with major depression. Whaleshit depression, we used to call it back on a site I used to frequent that is no longer extant. That’s the worst kind, when you are in the darkest depths of depression. You aren’t suicidal, b/c that takes TOO MUCH ENERGY. I mean, yeah, it would be NICE IF IT HAPPENED, but I ain’t gonna do anything about it at this point. I can hardly do ADLS right now. Besides, I have the lovely Miss P, who does depend on me. She is currently my tether to this world. (A big burden to place upon a 26 pound whippet, I know.) But if something were to happen to her, I would be MUCH more motivated to finally jump. I’m just SO tired of this.

    What has triggered this latest round? Well, aside from usual odd seasonal SAD-related depression that comes on with springtime and the lengthening days (yep-you read that correctly), I’ve had some erstwhile friends do unfortunate acts that have triggered reverberations. Through a series of mishaps involving cracked ribs on my part and me being out of touch for a bit, I evidently offended one and then the other, so that now both are no longer friends with me. Neither would accept my apology or believe this had been anything other than intentional. At least that’s what I THINK occurred. They both ghosted me at the same time, won’t talk to me, so I’m left to conjecture. But this has been very hurtful for me. And I have to encounter one of these dudes on a regular basis at the FM twice a week. Goodness knows what he’s said to other folks about me. Luckily, I’ve been here a LOT longer than HE has. But this has me re-thinking my whole “make new friends” policy. Ugh.

    In case anyone is thinking of telling me I need to talk to someone, I know. I’VE TRIED TO FIND MENTAL HEALTH HELP. My doc, who is truly a wonder among physicians, has been trying for several years to find me help. But the problem is: I don’t have Medicaid. OR great private insurance or resources. All I have is Medicare and a very limited income. Which effectively cuts me out being  of able to -FIND PDoc; GET to Pdoc, if s/he’s out of town (don’t drive due to seizures); FIND therapist; AFFORD therapist, even if I could find one.

    I don’t want to talk to someone who is waaay younger than I am. IF I’ve had more therapy in my lifetime than you’ve been alive (and could probably teach you a thing or two), then really, what’s the point? No offense to millennials or GenZ folk intended here. I just want to talk to someone who’s been around the block. Of course, this narrows an already small field. Fuck. Who am I kidding? There IS no field. I’ve knocked my head against brick walls in this place til it’s bloody. There comes a point where you say, “Enough.” And just give up. That’s what this blog represents. This is me giving  up seeking help. I’m not trying anymore. I see that, given my (lack of) resources, I do not GET TO HAVE MENTAL HEALTH CARE HERE.  So thank you, insurance company (United Health Care) for making it a fucking “specialist” visit EVERY single time I want to see a therapist. (I tried to appeal this. HAH! Do they not understand how mental health care WORKS???) Thank you, mass transit, for not making transit available for those who need to go to docs outside of this town. (Hello, ADA?) And finally, not being sarcastic here, thank you everyone who HAS tried to help. I appreciate it more than you know.

  • Cursing In Latin

    Cursing In Latin

    I was a Classics Major back in the day as an undergrad. When Cheeto Jesus got elected, I amused myself by hurling imprecations at him in Latin and Greek and the occasional Shakespearean reference for good measure. STILL didn’t manage to get banned from his Twitterfeed. A friend pointed out that I was totally batting over his head-the fool probably thought I was COMPLIMENTING him. Sigh. I miss having a literate POTUS.

    My favorite Latin curse: Te odeo. Interface te cochleare! (I hate you. Kill yourself with a spoon!) Appeals to my morbid sense of whimsy. My second fav: Initam te  coniutarati in foro interficiant! (May conspirators assassinate you in the mall!) My third fav (b/c it is so useful): Futue te ipsum! (Go fuck yourself!)

    So. The next time I’m out in public, on transit or at a WaCoDems meeting and you see me muttering to myself? I’m probably cursing someone out….in Latin. There are many more useful phrases that I’ve not listed here. Latin, though technically a dead language, turns out to be extremely useful for venting one’s ire. Who knew? (The ancient Romans!)

  • Falling Hard

    via Falling Hard