Tuesday, March 27, 2012

The boobs of hypocrisy

I really thought I'd seen and heard it all when it came to hypocrites but this really floored me. I have a "friend" who:

hasn't worn garments in years

hasn't gone to church in even more years

drinks like a fish

will smoke anything that's free

sends a picture of her boobs (paid for by a former boyfriend) to random strangers

uses her ample boobage whenever and wherever it will benefit her

boasts of her excellent bj skills and has a couple of regular fuck buddies

has a potty mouth of epic proportions

and yet--

says she doesn't want to hang out with me because I'm anti-Mormon.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Shite by Beck

“Female roles did not begin on earth, and they do not end here. A woman who treasures motherhood on earth will treasure motherhood in the world to come, and ‘where [her] treasure is, there will [her] heart be also’ (Matthew 6:21). By developing a mother heart, each girl and woman prepares for her divine, eternal mission of motherhood.”
-Julie B. Beck

If you don't enjoy being a mother now, well, too bad! You're going to be one FOREVER! Bwahahahaha!

My daughters listened to this type of thing last night at the general Young Women's meeting. (Did I get that right? I'm losing my mo-lingo.) Not this particular quote, which was made previously, but stuff just like it. It fills me with rage. My gorgeous daughters are talented and full of life, energy and dreams. I want them to reach for the stars and grasp them! But what chance do they have if they are not given a choice because rhetoric like this has been force fed them since infancy? Instead they'll become bitter, middle-aged women who have no skills or career beyond homemaking and baby-birthing. (Oh wait, that's me!)

But seriously, is there a quote telling boys that fatherhood is their divine, eternal mission? Hell no! Men are encouraged to get an education and build careers. Make money and babies in this life so you can become gods in the next life with lots of wives to create lots more kids!

Well, fuck that shite. I'm going to continue to help my girls stretch their limits and reach for the stars. You want to try out for that play? Go for it! I'll help you run lines and drive you around. You want to break up with that guy because he's getting too serious and you're not ready for that? I'll listen to you cry and whine all you need to, then make you pick yourself up and go on without him. You are more than just a uterus, fit for wiping up spit and changing diapers. If you want to do that later in life, go ahead! But first know yourself, explore your options and have some grand experiences. Simply live!

Inthenameofcheeseandrice, ramen.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Take two Fuckitol and call me in the morning

Have you ever had a week where someone knocks your brick mailbox into the street so you have to pick your mail up at the post office then you cut your lip and it won't stop bleeding and it looks like you cut yourself shaving but you have to go to work anyway and you're attacked by a rogue cabinet door and now you have a goose egg on your white, hairy, scaly leg and you have to show your boss and beg her not to file an accident report in case they have to take a picture and then the brakes go out on your car and you get turned down for a loan to fix them so you go around for days with brakes that sound like dementors being tortured by demonic seals and everyone stares as you stop at lights? Oh, wait. That was only three days, not a week. Where's the gin?

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Dark thoughts on a sunny day

A certain subject has been on my mind lately and on Monday there was a fantastic blog post about it-- Surviving Suicide and Other Destructive Behaviors. This author of this blog is doing his part to open up that long-hidden closet door and shine some light on the subject. I never would have guessed that this intelligent, kind, successful man has struggled so severely all these years. Please read the entire post. You won't regret it.

I've been trying to decide if I should open up as well so if you're reading this, I guess I did. My struggle started in high school. Just waking up in the morning became an obstacle course of epic proportions. I just didn't feel strong enough to deal with any part of life. Sleep became my refuge and I missed at least one day of school per week because I just gave in and stayed in bed. The emotional pain was intense and constant. I just wanted it to stop. I prayed each night to simply not wake up in the morning. But morning always came and I had to plod through another day. My school commute involved ten miles of wild, curving dirt road filled with cliff walls and drop offs. Every time I drove it, I would imagine the freedom I would feel if I accelerated and drove off one of those cliffs to sail through the air and land at the bottom. I knew that then the pain would stop and I would feel peace at last. The only thing that kept me from doing it was the fear that the drop wasn't far enough and I would survive.

At one point, I decided that taking a handful of Tylenol might stop the agony. Maybe it was the only thing I could find in the medicine cabinet, I'm not sure, but it's what I settled on. I popped them one night, but alas, I awoke the next morning. Other than some dizziness the next few days, I suffered no ill effects. I managed to squeak though high school with decent grades and get into college but I've always wondered what I really could have accomplished if I hadn't been constantly fighting to just survive. I never shared this with my friends or my parents. I mean, it was obvious that no one else seemed to have these thoughts so no one would understand and they might think less of me. It was my private struggle. But how many others around me were going through the same thing? The odds are good that at least a few were. But we suffered alone.

The dark, suffocating pain still pops up now and then. It's been settling into my bones this winter and I've had the same thoughts. Life is too hard and I am too weak. The fact that I have lived through some very tough things in my life means nothing to the pain that whispers to me.  I am weak. I will crumble. The only way to make the pain stop is to end it.

But this time I'm opening all the windows of my mind and letting the dark out and the sunlight in. Here is my pain, what I live with each day, but I am not alone.  Let's share our struggles instead of enduring them in isolation. And let's make it safe for others to share. Share your story.