Mad Nauseated Ramblings

This post was written by the angry feminist and I don’t remember it at all. Imagine my surprise in learning she has written and posted it for you! It would appear that at least one of the others has decided to start showing up and so the rest are sure to follow. I won’t attempt to censor them or delete their posts but thought I should let you know to start watching for them. I’m sure you’ll be able to tell the difference between us as you read. Or maybe not! It’ll be interesting to find out if anyone can.

It has been a rough morning and I’m entering my third day without being able to keep down food as my digestive system continues to refuse to actually digest. As I will always be a little vain at heart, I can’t say I’m sad to see my pants getting a little loser as the quit-smoking weight is melting off; even as I know it is melting as a result of what is becoming increasingly clear a somewhat serious situation. Isn’t is a shame that the idea of “thin is good” is such a deeply engrained message for women? I have often wished that I could have been born into one of those enlightened societies in which women are considered more beautiful as they assumed the rounder fleshier hips and thicker thighs and waists that settle upon most of us after having children.

I don’t like to spend a lot of time thinking about the actual mechanics of death but when my body struggles like it has been in the past 72 hours to perform even the most basic fundamental functions needed for my survival, it does tend to pop into my mind as something to think about. Not everyone gets a chance to know their journey through this existence is coming to an end. So many people leave their homes in the morning expecting to return and never do. Others sit at their dining tables, stand in their kitchens or lie in their beds carrying on life like any other moment when suddenly there are no more moments for them. I don’t spend an extraordinary amount of time contemplating death and I want to be upfront in saying I have not received a fatal diagnosis from a doctor telling me I only have a certain length of time to live. But I have stopped wondering when I will die and start placing odds on which of my failing organs, parts or systems will be the one that takes me out of this world; knowing from the general state of things I won’t be one of those people celebrating my birthday with my great grandchildren, or even grandchildren at this rate for that matter.

At this point, my meat coated skeleton only remains viable through the intervention of science and medicine and, should there be a collapse of society, a zombie apocalypse or even really bad case of influenza to which I’m exposed, I’m pretty sure I’ll be one those people who (were it like the movies) dies in the opening credits. And even as medication keeps me somewhat comfortably alive, I have parts that need replacing, parts that are bulging, parts that are slowly ceasing to work at all and it has dawned on me that, although I’ve always assumed the elderly walked slowly and gingerly as a matter of balance and strength, they move as they do because they are in pain. Maybe everyone else already understood this but I truly never did and now I can’t unsee it and it hurts me to watch them hurt as them move about. Most people wish for a long life but I wonder how many of them are aware of what that really means as far as how their bodies will change as they move toward the end of that long life.

So all my ailments from aging combined with a 35 year smoking habit that I only managed to kick last year and a lifetime of going hard and ignoring all the risks is undoubtedly catching up with me. I have been living “balls out” (despite not actually having balls) from the age of 13 and I have fulfilled the Hunter S. Thompson quote I used to quote so frequently of “Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!” I am used up. I am totally worn out. And while I’m not quite prepared to to skid into my grave broadside, I not surprise to see that it is up ahead in my path nor am I disappointed to see it there. I strongly believe that it is every generation’s duty to die and get out of the way so the generations behind them may have a chance at things.

As science and medicine has kept all of us old fuck buckets alive longer that we would have otherwise or maybe should be, the evidence of having moldy humans around too long is becoming entirely too clear as old white men in our nation’s capital do their damndest to take us all back to that day when they so comfortably had all the privileges. One of the thoughts I often have is what would this world look like if life extending medications, treatments and surgeries were not available after a certain age. I know that some would consider me a monster for even suggesting it but I think it is absurd, as the world becomes overcrowded and resources start to dwindle, to think we can continue extending lives and engineering fertility without it eventually catching up to us. And, to be honest, I think that there are plenty of people in charge of things who are perfectly aware of how horrifically it will all (overpopulation, food shortages, climate change, dying oceans, all of it) will end up at the rate we are going but they don’t care…because they are old and won’t be around to endure it; which goes directly to the point of my monstrous thought in the first place. It is completely unfair to continue bringing little humans into the world if we aren’t going to be willing to relinquish our space to make room for them and allow them to take control at a point in their lives when they can actually make a difference for themselves and the generations following them. This thought really strikes me when people start talking about finding a cure for cancer. I know from experience how hideous cancer is and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone but if we get rid of it, how will we die in rates fast enough to keep up; as even with the veracious appetite of cancer, it isn’t keeping up.

It’s thoughts like this that race around my mind every waking moment. And it’s the nature of them that has kept me from forming them outside of a thought up until now. It seems like there are so many instances in which we, as a human race, have these really strange contradictory ideas that make no sense if you hold them up the the Light but if you dare to question them you are an uncaring monster. Well maybe I’m a monster. It’s not the worse I’ve been called. Because I have so many thoughts that seem to make perfect logical sense to me but I know would burn the tits off many if they were to hear of them. For example:

Why is so much money being donated and spent to harass or shame women who are seeking abortions instead of being raised in support of offering them a way to financially afford a child? Every woman I know who has had a child has done so out of an inability to afford to have a child and raise it without doing so in poverty. It seems like a significant amount of time and money is spent by those who so staunchly support the right to life. Why are they standing in lines offering judgement with these resources rather than offers of understanding and help? If the are asserting their taking their stand on the basis of their faith, then doesn’t that faith demand them to offer love, kindness and understanding – as well as any and all money they can afford to live without and then some? That’s what I’ve been reading anyway. And along the same thought, if a woman does’t want to have a child but finds herself with an unplanned pregnancy, why are adoption and abortion her only two choices? Why do we allow surrogate woman to be paid for carrying a child for others but a woman who has become pregnant unintentionally cannot be monetarily compensated if she decides to give birth to that child and relinquish custody to others? I mean, if the right to lifers really want to see the abortion rates go down, change this law and watch what happens! I’m sure it wouldn’t be a popular change, but am I wrong in saying it would effectively (1) reduce the number abortions being performed and therefore fulfill the supposed goal of the those who claim to support the right to life and (2) give women yet another choice other than abortion, adoption or raising a child in poverty as well as the opportunity to get a financial foundation upon which to rebuild her life afterwards? Just by allowing women to be compensated for carrying an unplanned pregnancy to term and giving it up to be adopted (a precedent already set by allowing surrogates to be paid for the growing of a baby for others), abortions would be prevented and choices for women would be increased. Am I missing something in thinking this is a completely viable option being held off the board as unthinkable simply because someone, somewhere at some point in time decided that if the baby was conceived naturally and unintentionally rather than through intentional scientific intervention, it is somehow moralistically wrong to allow the woman growing the child to be compensated? I just don’t get it . And on a different but related note, what those “christians” who are on facebook holding signs saying “We’ll adopt your baby if you won’t kill it.” Just by making the offer they have made it clear they have the means to adopt and provide for a child to be raised into adulthood. According to everything I’ve been reading in the Christian bible, their sign should read “If you can’t afford to raise a child, we will help you and we expect nothing in return for ourselves.” I don’t know, you’re the one that has the extensive knowledge of scripture thanks to your fundamental upbringing. Tell me, am I misinterpreting things here?

And what about the legalization of marriage? My sister was one of the first people in her state to marry her partner (now wife) of many years and she was so happy and I, for that reason, was happy for her and didn’t share what was really on my heart in being concerned for her. I believe with all my heart that love is love. Period. I don’t care what kind of obscure reference self-hating closet gay “christians” or others want to pull from whatever source they might conjure up, Love is in itself a force like Life and Light and we have no business trying to define this for anyone other than ourselves. But as this huge push for the legalization of gay marriage was happening across the country, despite my 100% support for gay couples receiving all of the rights and recognition that anyone else has, I really wasn’t delighting in the legislation itself. Having been married and divorced four times as a product of my many reinventions of self (multiple marriages, I might add that are strictly prohibited by the bible but were all perfectly legal without special legislature), I found that the government’s involvement in my marriages took away a lot of my rights and seemed completely oppressive and intrusive in a way I feel does not support any claim to the “freedom” I keep being told that I have. I knew several hetero couples that stay together because a legal divorce would be too costly and complicated (because once the government is involved in your marriage, you’re not allowed to do anything about dissolving the relationship and the legality of the marriage without the government’s permission, following the government’s frequently arbitrary laws and processes, using the government’s legal domain and (of course) paying the government fees for the privilege of having their involvement). I understand the reasons gay and lesbian couples sought the legalization of marriage as there are many laws (tax, inheritance, medical privacy, insurance, custody, etc) that were leaving them with fewer rights as a result of not having access to a legalized marriage. But wouldn’t it have been better to simply do away with the whole concept of legal marriage, to remedy the current laws and regulations that are based on the concept of legal marriage and to liberate the citizens’ personal lives and family unions from the government’s domain? Rather than a step forward in gaining rights by having gay marriage legalized, I feel the gay community may have actually stepped into a baited trap and joined the hetero couples under the umbrella of oppressive and overreaching control through the system of licensed marriage. Again…maybe I’m wrong and way off base, as I’m certainly no expert in law, but after four divorces I am somewhat of an expert on the disadvantages of having a legal marriage.

I know these last two paragraphs are each way too long and contains way too many run-on sentences, in addition to being a bore, but I was on a roll and this is a true reflection of how these thoughts stream through my consciousness. But having extracted all of that blah-blah-blah from my mind and still feeling the upset and exhaustion from my continued physical malaise, I am completed wasted now and must sign off to go rest for a while. I really miss the legal dispensaries. If I could have smoked some weed over the past few days, I wouldn’t have had to feel this constant nausea. See? All this fucking “freedom” and I can’t even set a plant on fire and smoke it if I choose to. smh… Freedom in America, my dear, is a constructed reality en masse!

I’m adding some pictures that I came across last night. I was going to write a post about how I used to find messages from myself written on my body but I’ve already mentioned in one of my previous posts and I’ve done such fine of waving the Fuck It flag in showing my madness in this post, I decided to just post the picture proof of my insanity. These are just two of the messages of which I happened to find pictures. There were others that said things like “Don’t trust him” and such. I never did understand the message about the jeans. Apparently it wasn’t important? Maybe it was a note to myself about gaining weight and not fitting into my jeans? Who knows?

This kind of thing doesn’t happen anymore, thankfully, and I’ve traded in cryptic sharpie messages on skin for handwritten messages in journals and these “journal” entries to help me remember what I need to remember. It is good sometimes, I think, to look back at where I’ve been in order to appreciate how far I’ve come – just as I use these pictures now to make myself feel better after having written, what I am sure I will later to consider to be, a post that is a little more unbridled than I’ve allowed in the past in showing the workings of my mind. As if to say, “If you think this post is crazy, check out what I used to do!” Even within a stream of consciousness it appears I retain my ability to quickly prepare mitigations for the presentation of myself, yes? It would appear my instinct for survival and subconscious, though subdued somewhat, are still wide awake and ready to jump in anytime I become a little too authentic; as I’m almost certain the “me” who is finishing this post is the not the same “me” who started but is actually a more conservative “what the hell did I just say” version of me. So finish I must, before I give in to the temptation to scroll back up and start deleting and deleted and deleting.