Deep, Dark Hole

All too often, people are made to feel ashamed for suffering from anything people can’t visibly see. How sad it is that we live in a world where you’d receive more help and kindness for breaking a leg, as opposed to suffering for the rest of your life? A sick, depraved world; that’s what you face in the world when you suffer from any form of mental illness.

Today was a bad day for me. A bad day on top of G-d only knows how many others which have come before it. I refuse to allow anyone to judge me or make me feel lesser because I suffer in ways they don’t understand. Educate yourself, and maybe you’ll judge a whole lot less.

For me, a bad day could mean any number of things, but it can also mean it’s been a month of despair, or an entire year. I tend to remain silent because support is hard to come by, and quite frankly, I’m tired of the usual rhetoric. The, “I’m sorry to hear that.” crap gets really old, really fast, especially since it is said with not an ounce of genuine care or concern. It is one of the rudest things you can say to me, and I will react and respond to those words in ways you cannot possibly imagine. On a good day I don’t suffer fools. On a bad day, I won’t roll my eyes and pretend one might secretly mean well. No. Those who mean well have better words. If you don’t, I strongly suggest you get better words, quickly. So many people are suffering privately because of ignorance. They are afraid they will lose their friends, family, job, and everything else they value or need to survive.

I see a lot of patently false “woke” people these days pretending to care about things they didn’t care about two years ago, or two months ago. Things many have been silent about their entire lives. It sickens me. It’s so disingenuous. Especially when words exchanged in private are still of the ignorant, hateful sort. There are too many people trying to pretty up their views on others; their judgments.

Too many people are constantly judging a person who is mentally ill, as opposed to trying to help them. I see it and I hear it, and I am not quiet about my views. To do so would be hypocrisy.

I’m going to take care of myself for the next few weeks. Maybe during that time, some people will pick up a book and enlighten themselves. Depression, and mental illness on a whole, doesn’t discriminate. It is the ultimate predator. It doesn’t take out the weak, it tries to take out the strong. Keep that in mind the next time you judge without looking in a mirror first.

Stressors and Triggers

I intended to write something specific today, but my mood is bringing me deep down. That’s when I know I need a break, a distraction, and perhaps a six month long vacation away from daily stressors and triggers. Alas, I settled for a stack of good books.

When you’re writing about certain topics, it is often good to stay away from reading books on said topics. Instead, I find stepping back, and reading the topic for a while, is far more encouraging regarding how you will finish it, and what the quality of the writing will be.

So, I guess I’m on a bit of a self-imposed break this week. Here’s hoping I’m inspired to do things on my own terms, because forcing it means you’re writing crap. At least from my perspective.

Have a good week.

Pre-Thanksgiving Jitters

Hello, everyone. It’s been a minute, and the reality is, I’ve been sick for over a month. 😦 I haven’t had any real energy, and I’ve struggled with not getting enough sleep and then getting too much sleep, if too much sleep is actually a real thing. <Sigh> According to my body, it isn’t.

Fighting pain 24/7 is exhausting, let’s be clear about that. I might be the only person I know who can have caffeine in her system, or any stimulant (My normal amount is none, but extended quarantine and curfews have led to MANY changes. I keep saying I’m not myself, and I say it because it’s true. I don’t feel like myself, sound like myself, and I am definitely not behaving like the person I truly am.). and fall asleep fifteen minutes later. Not for a short period of time, either. I can be out for twelve hours straight, or longer. My body cannot seem to get enough rest no matter what I do. Yes, it’s possible I’m burnt out, but I am still concerned.

I am seemingly more allergic this year than ever before, so I’m kind of glad I ordered tissues in bulk a few months ago. If I’m not coughing, I’m sneezing. I only noticed this recently. Apparently, you can still get the mother of all colds without being around too many people. Epic suckage.

I’ll be honest; the last thing on Earth I want to do is partake in any type of traditional Thanksgiving meal. On top of having no appetite, which I will be addressing in another piece soon, I would have been totally cool making homemade pizza or anything less complicated than a turkey, stuffing, etc. So when the turkey arrived, along with other traditional items to accompany it, I was immediately nauseous. Let me be clear: I am by no means ungrateful. I know I am extremely lucky to have a roof over my head and enough food to feed my own hockey team, but I already know how time-consuming and energy consuming this type of cooking is. I felt like I had made this clear, and still, I found myself deeply annoyed, bordering on hostile, and then I settled down and decided I cannot be responsible for that which is not wholly my idea. Period. Others have the right to celebrate, even if I do not feel well enough to do so.

I have not made anything traditional for Thanksgiving in a long time, and not once did anyone complain about this. But now, my head cannot stop going over my stuffing recipe. It is actually easy to make, but thinking about it tires me out. Lots of chopping and nailing down the flavor, toss it together in a huge cooking pan, a short amount of cooking time (under two hours), and then you have enough food for a week or more. It’s my mother’s recipe. I have since tweaked it, and yet, it tastes exactly like hers. But do I want to make it, or any carb heavy dish right now? NO.

The more I factor in the realities of “Thanksgiving”, the less I want to partake in it. The historical inaccuracies to modern day truth is something I struggle with, and I know I am not alone in this.

I spent a large part of my life being told I was white, and there was always a measure of shame added to this because of the, “privilege” it may, or may not, bring with it. I am pretty sure my long form birth certificate states I am a Caucasian female, which is incorrect (and my parents were not asked for any unobvious information, either.). To be clear, I was told at a very young age that we were Russian. Eastern European. Nothing else. Blood tests and cheek swabs would tell a much larger story, and it would explain childhood dreams of countries I had never even heard of (Circa, age two), the things I would say before ever learning anything about world history, and the things I surmised from hearing different languages spoken around me. So as someone who is more rooted in her culture(s) and ancestry, “Thanksgiving” is merely a date on the calendar. And it makes me sigh, in sadness.

Someone mentioned this is the 399th Thanksgiving which will be celebrated on U.S. soil. The history of how European settlers were somehow bestowing kindness upon those who actually showed them kindness, and as a result of their arrival, brought illness and death to the Native American tribes upset me into a headspace of feeling the way I’ve felt for a long time. Un-American. And by using that particular phrase I mean, “Different.” or perhaps, “Other”. That’s the best way to explain it. Usually when someone meets me for the first time, they will describe me as, “Otherworldly”. They don’t mean I’m alien, just different to a degree they vibe with.

For me, this is another year without my Grandparents and parents, and that’s painful no matter how I look at it. It reminds me of all I’ve lost. It is another year separated from my brother, who could not be here even if he wanted to be because traveling is unsafe, and while we knew this ahead of time, we did not know traveling into New York City, even if you did not intend to stop, would require being stopped at bridges and tunnels to ensure you have a negative Covid test in hand. This requires a LOT of on the ground manpower for every out-of-state vehicle. And because of his job, I know he can’t be away for too long because he has so many professional responsibilities. I’ve come to terms with the fact that we won’t see each other for a while. If he was a better communicator, this would not be an issue, but he’s horrendous. I have a texting relationship with the asshole. And he’s likely to read this, which is fine. I do miss him, but I have no patience for him these days. And by, “him”, I mean everyone. 😉

However you are choosing to celebrate this year, I wish you good health and peace. Thank you for being on this journey with me. For that, I am incredibly grateful. 🙂

copyright © 2020 by Lisa Marino & Poison In Lethal Doses, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Happy Birthday, Brother (S dnem ​​rozhdeniya, brat)

Happy Birthday, M! You’ve been such an amazing brother, especially this past year. I’ve seen how much you’ve grown, and how far you have come as a person. You always try to learn and make changes. You work hard on personal and professional development. I KNOW how hard you try to help others each day, even when they don’t deserve it. I’m proud of you. I miss you. And today, I celebrate the hell out of the awesome human-being you are. Love you, dude.

#LibraSeason♎ #MyOGRideOrDie #ThisIsHowWeGetIntoTrouble #Laughter #SameSenseOfHumor #MyBrother #BestLookingDudeInMyFamily #OverTheSpeedLimit #ListeningToTHATSong #FightHardLoveHonestly #GetHonest #HesGotMyBack