tearonthefire: (Taarna)
And now to prove that 'taking offence' is stupid, I will now say something about myself that some will be offended at for me, even though I said it to myself. Yes that statement just tore a hole in reality.

I'm a fat, gender queer, retarded, dyke.

Writing that just made me smile.
tearonthefire: (Taarna)
There are a group of women, and some men, whom call themselves feminist but are the absolute furthest thing from what feminism is. My interpretation of the word simply means equality for women but can mean other things, like women helping women and so forth. But this group of women are not seeking equality or giving a helpful hand, this group is making an active effort to make all women believe that they are victims of all men. That is not to say that some aren't, some most certainly are victimized but statements like, and I'm paraphrasing because I can't remember the exact quote or who made it, 'all sex is demeaning and violating to women' is idiotic beyond reason. This same person, that I can't remember the name, also said that woman who 'think' they enjoy sex or 'think' they have an equal partnership with a man have actually been brainwashed by men to believe these principles.

The particular person I'm paraphrasing was exclusively speaking about women but her ideals have been adopted and expanded by others. I'm actually having trouble wording my next statement, so this will seem very ruff but you likely know someone who thinks everyone should play nice. That no one should be allowed to call anyone names or segregate someone from their group because they don't like them. These people are into an ultra tolerance type thing. They even want to restrict the type of dress women and men can wear, so to limit the sexualization of an event or place. This is actually happening at ultra liberal gatherings, like at atheist conventions. There are actually conventions were participants are told not to dress in sexualized clothing, or to create a sexualized environment and that doing so constitutes harassment. There was even some comparison that making and selling fake jewellery or making an offensive comment was like groping someone's ass.

As you might now be wondering, this blog was indeed precipitated by something. It was a vlog by Thunderf00t entitled “Why 'Feminism' is poisoning Atheism”, with the word feminism in quotes. While his comments inspired me to think in a similar direction, I'm not into the atheist movement and can't speak of any experience there. I personally don't think the atheist movement has anything resembling balls, which was demonstrated by the organizers' reaction to the 'professional victims' complaints and demands, and as such I don't feel a connection to the group. Personally I think these people, the atheists, should be far more on the offensive and far less accommodating to the 'politically correct'. To be fair however, there are some atheists that do not put up with that kind of bullshit, Thunderf00t is one and so is Richard Dawkins.

I have a lot of experience with professional victims and the poison they pour out into the world. But to be fair to that group, most of the people within it have at one time been victimized, sometimes brutally so. The point at which I loose sympathy for them, is when they start transferring their suffering and anxieties onto others. The sad fact for them, and the reassuring fact for other, is that in all likelihood their experience was an isolated incident or, in some cases, a small event blown out of proportion and not a cautionary tail to tell all of humanity in hopes of sparing them your misery.

I could now go in a million directions with this;

I could bring up the fact that while gathering rape statistics, a sizable percentage of women say that they did not report their assault because they felt it wasn't important enough to do so. Your first reaction, as mine was, might be to think there's something wrong with these women but maybe they think getting drunk and being taken advantage of, was just a matter of poor judgement and not a violation of them as human being. Even that being said, you might want to continue to argue the point, maybe even argue the point to the victim that doesn't consider herself a victim but my point now is that you and I have no right to tell these women that they are victims, for them they are not.

I could also bring up bullying. Many have called it an epidemic but I, and my sisters from what I remember, were picked on just as much as anyone else and as much as anyone who has been reported in the news lately but we didn't kill ourselves. The reaction from the PCers is harsher punishment to the bullies and endless campaigns on how it's wrong. The bully 'victim's' reactions however are just another symptom from the professional victim movement. These kids are never taught how to deal with bulling because their parents think that it's wrong and believe that it's up to everyone else to modify their behaviour, this is just ignoring reality. Bullying happens no matter how much you don't want it to and no matter how much you try to protect your kids they will get bullied no matter what, it's human nature. Sticking your head and by extension you kids' head in the sand only leads them to pain and misery.

I could also mention, and don't worry this is the last one, how parents are transferring their own victimizations to their children, I have a lot of experience with this example. I think for the most part parents are subconscious of what they repeatedly tell their kids. It provides no benefit to the child to tell them repeated how you were raped by someone or abused by a partner, in fact it only serves to make a girl afraid of all men and a boy feel responsible for his gender. Both will grow up fearing either being assaulted or being accused of it or worse, falling into relationships were abuse is normalized because their parent have desensitized them to it. All the parent is doing is making their child feel like they do and if you don't like how you feel, why would you make your kids feel that way.

So far I've been fairly gender neutral but the sad fact is, that most of the perpetrators of the professional victims movement are women, there are men but they number far less. I believe, perhaps delusionarily so, that these people are a minority and simply get more facetime because of the PCers. The politically correct movement can seem even worse at times but they aren't my focus today. I don't truly believe that the majority of women, and some men, think that they are at constant risk of being harassed or at risk of worse. I don't think that they think being hit on is offensive or a behaviour that should be corrected. And I don't think they agree with these people, I think for the most part they ignore them. It's the absolute truth that when a woman, or a man, doesn't agree with them, they call them part of the problem and put a portion of the guilt on them.

It's ridiculous and maddening when these people open their mouths to let their idiocy spew out. It's even more ridiculous that such a small number can effect the liberties of so many others. I hesitate calling myself a feminist because of these people and would rather call myself a humanist. A word that started a movement with such admirable principals has been co-oped by extremists that could be compared to any religious extremist group. I don't want these people around me nor do I even wish to argue with them, and arguing is one of my favourite pastimes, I just want them gone. They add to making life unlivable.
tearonthefire: (Taarna)
The Emergency Department's Observation Ward at the Ottawa Hospital's Civic Campus is unfortunately designed. If your lucky enough to be assigned a bed on the east side, you're in for a more or less peaceful visit. If you unlucky, as the person I was visiting was, and assigned the west side you'll be treated to all the babbling and bitching of the nurse's station. The north side might be just as bad but I'm not sure as I've never sat in that area for any length of time.

I know that doctors and nurses, especially those in an emergency room, have a hard time but most seem a little manic or even schizo. They can seem perfectly friendly and helpful to you one minute and total dicks the next. I'm not saying they aren't under stress or don't have a reason to be as such but the forgiveness is only extended, and expected, one way. If you're a patient, you must at all times kiss their asses or risk being left alone, except for during rounds or checkups. And if you're positioned correctly you can hear them complain, way too loudly in my opinion, about everything, from breaks to difficult patients or you may even hear them talking about what they screwed up with you.

It was mind numbing, literally. When I left I had a headache large enough and was in a bad enough mood that I wanted to inflict damage to the building. I said I wanted to burn the hospital down but I wasn't in that bad of a condition. I did however hate everyone but one person who dealt with the person I was with. Only one nurse seemed to exhibit true patients and a willingness to put in a little more work. He gave the person I was with a new IV line, taking two tries, when the assigned nurses did everything possible to avoid it.

Even the doctor didn't want to think outside of what her preconceived conception of the person's illness. She had decided what was wrong and blamed all other symptoms on a preexisting condition and pretty much refused to discuss or suggest other possibles but did make sure that she mentioned several times that the person I was with follow up. It was obvious that she was not one hundred percent sure of her prognosis and feared something else was wrong. It was a classic case of pass the buck.

The troublesome IV was even a pass the buck. The assigned nurse dumped it on another nurse who fixed the problem almost immediately and with an effort to prevent further annoyance. All his efforts were of course complained about by the assigned nurse afterwards.

My increased annoyance might also be due to my changed perception of the medical community. At one time I saw them, literally, as superior beings. Maybe that's a stretch but it was definitely an elevation and a forgiveness that I felt towards them. Then I started reading the blogs of doctors and nurses in preparation to write a story. What I found was a little shocking.

They all act, like anyone would, anywhere else in the employed world. The bitchy and lazy secretary, that only gives you your messages after you ask for them, is represented in the ER. The prankster who moves your stuff around just enough for you to notice, is there. And the jerk who wants a favour from you, for doing their job, isn't hard to find. They're all there and in spades. And just like in the normal world, everyone who is higher than you on the ladder, let you know, every minute of your life. It's all very disgusting, especially in an environment where you go to have your life saved.

And the person I sat with in Observation? She's still in fairly bad condition but now is in the peace and quiet of her own bed as she suffers.
tearonthefire: (Taarna)
I recently moved from a big city to a tiny town. Since moving here I've suffered almost constant nausea, stomach aches, and general digestive irritability but I couldn't immediately attribute this to the move because I've suffered from very poor digestive health since I was a child. I've also use a filter religiously and thought that it would be enough to remove anything added to the water to make it drinkable but unpleasant.

Some weeks into the move I began jonesing for a soft drink, specifiably the bottle of cherry coke that sat at the end of one of the isle in the market. The two litre bottle lasted a few days, during which time I didn't drink the tap water, except to cook. I felt better immediately, like that day immediately, and began to suspect the water was causing my troubles. Other signs such as the permanently etched shower door, permanently stripped stainless steel kitchen sink, and the rust colour stains under every faucet and in the toilet were also indicators of this.

I changed filters hoping it would at least help but it didn't and my symptoms continued. After a while I just gave up and bought a 20 litre bottle of water and have been using it exclusively, even for cook. For the first time since getting here, my stomach feels normal.

The problem with the water is multifaceted. First it's exceptionally base, I'm not sure how much so but I'm told it's a lot. Second it is very highly chlorinated, so highly chlorinated that the breakdown of the sodium hypochlorite, which they use as their treatment product, causes the sodium levels to be twelve times it's recommended limit. Third since the town water is technically well water the municipality doesn't have to test for some things, like sulfates. To that I would like to mention that this is cow country. I think that statement rather self explanatory.

When i decided not to consume my government mandated, piped to my house, water I asked some of my neighbours what they thought. Not a single one drinks it. Not one. One woman said all she drinks is Pepsi. Others found the thought that I would even consider drinking it, absurd. And finally all the restaurants use industrial water filtration.

Town hall's response to this is that it's technically drinkable, passes all the required tests, and that most residence buy bottled water. Translated, it's not a priority to supply us with quality tap water. It's even been a motion in council NOT to upgrade the system from its current and very old specifications to something more modern. Sometimes I wounder if they're getting kickbacks from Naya and the like.
tearonthefire: (Taarna)
It's one of the worst things I tell myself and I usually tell myself it at my worst. It conjures up images of putting IV lines in, with the valves cut off, and playing Sarah McLachlan.

Sometimes I think, that at best, I'm a researcher for some non-existent ghost writer, organizing and filing mountains of information on technology, locations, cultures, and writing endless timelines and character treatments. It's like I'm working for NBC on non-broadcast pilots, nothing I do will ever be seen.

I'm actually getting worse. Between the ages of 8 and 17 I wrote a lot, almost every month I'd have something finished and hidden away in a notebook or leafed in with a pile of drawings and other assorted junk. Now I'm lucky if I get down what I need to buy at the store.

And 'now' is the time that my best ideas are coming to mind, now I think up a complete treatment in a few days. Little short stories that may take up five or ten thousand words and epics that may fill several novels. But nothing gets written down. Sometimes, when I'm lucky I write out timeslines or find/make inspirational pictures. Most of the time I read endlessly, filling my brain with the culture of ER physicians or research the most average looking faces. I know more about nothing then anyone I know.

The problem is that I existed in a very shitty childhood and adolescences, not the enema equivalent of ipecac but certainly only what the insane would call healthy. It took its toll on me and like any good clinically insane person I repeated all the same behaviours taught to me during those years expecting a different outcome.

Actually my reaction to pain or injury is probably a good comparison to my ongoing reaction to my childhood, or more likely an indicator of it; When I have a bruise or cut, I can't stop rubbing it, it may burn like hell but I just wont stop. And when I'm in excruciating pain I work harder, I will be on the verge of collapses but I just wont rest and may even start something else when I'm finished. I drive myself almost non-stop, not in or for any goal but just because. Or maybe, just because of the pain. I accomplish nothing in the process and live in the process of generating more misery for myself.

It's a reflection of my growth as a tinny bundle of reactions to a 'fully fledged sapien'. Nothing during those years ever resulted in a goal being fulfilled, arguments were never meant to resolve anything they just existed for their own sake.

Arguments are an excellent example of the futility of my learning curve as a child. I could and often would be defending myself, my position, and my beliefs, against a family member(always the adults) that never believed what they were saying to begin with but would never concede to my point even if they believe that point was inherently valid. The sentience itself doesn't make seem to make sense but neither did the life I existed in(I will not say lived in as the word sounds like I had a choice, I didn't). This, in retrospect, was the hardest things to take, even if I was right, and everyone knew I was right, no one would let me believe that I was.

Another shinning example of the decayed moral lessons of my childhood came from my aunt, actually there are a number of them but the following two seem impotent. Every single time I saw my aunt, from the earliest memory to well into my twenties, told me that my biggest problem was that my mother didn't love me or love me enough. I don't think any explanations are needed that. The other was her ongoing theft of any money, or later property, that I had. It happened quiet a few times but I remember one time vividly; I was six and about to wait in the car for her to run into the bank. She asked me if I wanted her to put my twenty dollars, a fortune at that age, in the bank for me. I said yes, not knowing how banks worked I thought she was going to set up an account or something for me. Later she denied the event and even stood beside me for an hour while a teller looked up information on whether or not I had an account. If that was the only time she did something like that, one could say she was going to hold it for me and forgot but things like that happened often and in various other ways.

Actually my aunt is probably not a good example of anything in particular, she's just a bitch of interplanetary proportions. I just felt like venting that part of my childhood. I often wish I could lead a campaign, as one would against an elected official, to prove to everyone in existence how much of a horrible person she is. It wouldn't take much, just one single televised debate. To anyone woundering what kind of person she truly is, just think of Eric Cartman from South Park.

The learning curve was most exaggerated with my grandmother. She has done and does more to retard and destroy an individuals self esteem then anything I can think of. She is certainly not above attacking someone else's faults but that's not her worst contribution. She is a true believer, to the bone true believer, in everyone's more important than you and their opinion is worth more than yours. In her world, everyone plays nice and those who don't play nice you have to be extra submissive to so that they will play nice, because their aggression is your fault. She truly believes that if their is a conflict of any kind, you are wrong and the other person is right. She is also a firm believer in, everything is too big for you so don't try.

I'm now completely emotional exhausted and completely off my original point. To get back to the similarities of the injury/pain thing, I have until very recently continued to associate with theses people and the examples I have given would be similar in amount to the weight loss of filing your nails. We are in the top, at least, three percentile of maladjustment.

My family, especially the female members, are similar to hormone driven teenage boys, in that they will never leave out an opportunity to grope you emotionally by telling you what you're doing wrong with your life and what they think you should do about it. No and stop are not fully understood by them, they are relentless in their quests to point something out or 'help' you in some way. I think it's likely that they pick at the faults within themselves they see in others, believing in some twisted way that they can spare you their misery but in reality are completely impotent to help.

As a result I've become utterly necrotic and completely self deprecating. I want to like myself and would in fact get along well with someone exactly like me. I do in fact do get along well with people like me but I'm told, most often by my mother, what others would not like. As a result I'm constantly analyzing and reanalyzing others reactions to me, looking for those signs my mother insists must be there. And when someone does react positively to me I believe it's because they don't truly know me.

I'm overwhelmed, literally drowning, in the anxiety installed in me by my family members. The people I was predisposed to trust utterly by virtue of being defenceless, repeated violated my self image and self esteem. They would, of course, like to absolve themselves of their responsibility in what they did to me by saying that I'm an adult now. But the fact is that if they cut off my arm, they would not now be any less responsible for its loss then they were when the event happened. Simply saying, “you're old enough to take care of yourself and no longer my responsibility” does not wipe away the years of childhood. Comments like these are most prevalent when a child becomes a teenager and does something destructive, like taking drugs but parents are responsible for who their children become, from those drug addicts to the murderers.

The fact that my family attempt to dissuade their own guilt or worse blame me for something I did at six only makes my pain worse. They cared so little about my well being, or cared more about their own, that they did what they did and compound the events by now blaming me for the results.

I have wanted so much to belong to this extra special club called 'being a writer', since I was eight years old but I feel like I will forever be denied entry. I felt denied every time my family questioned whether or not I wrote something, denied when drawings were confiscated at school, denied when I was told that everything I wrote before an erotic scene was only to justify pornography, and denied when I wrote down my feelings and was told I wasn't allowed to feel that way. I regularly destroyed my diaries for exactly that reason. I was even denied owning a diary, every diary book I ever used was stolen from my sister who never once used them.

Things like these spin around, just behind my conscious thoughts driving me to hate every single word I type and hate every idea that comes to mind. It's driven me to delete letters and works that I've spent hours or even days on. I have nothing from before I was 25. Every scrap of paper has been shredded and every file deleted. I spent a whole year writing a detective story on a typewriter, again stolen from my sister, that I latter socked in water and threw in the garbage.

The more I try to fight against this thing that has grown inside me, the hard it is to deal with the results.

I'm very tempted to delete this garbage like I have everything else but I've been trying to build better habits where my writing is involved. I think just deleting this would reduce the likelihood of me writing something like it again and in turn reduce the likelihood of writing anything. But I don't have the strength to edit this thing or even care to do so, it's not something I want others to read and if they choose to, I don't really care if I'm understood.

I hate my life. Marry stolen pagan holiday Torry, your Christmas present is the realization of the continuation of human misery and the perpetuation of the dysfunction of your family which you are a part of. Maybe Santa will give me some CIA grade potassium cyanide pills.

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tearonthefire

February 2014

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