the demented but sometimes obnoxiously optimistic blogging of a girl who happens to also be a bi-polar, boderline personality, anxiety disorder patient.
Burn this to memory.
(★)
with a Scottish accent- it’s more effective.
Words to live by.
Also, this man in a plain black t-shirt = ridiculously sexy.
For real.
2) Signed the Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, Jr. Hate Crimes Prevention Act
3) Instructed HHS to require any hospital receiving Medicare or Medicaid funds (virtually all hospitals) to allow LGBT visitation rights.
4) Banned job discrimination based on gender identity throughout the Federal government (the nation’s largest employer)
5) Signed the Ryan White HIV/AIDS Treatment Extension Act and while more funding is needed per the 2012 proposed budget, an increase of $80 million to domestic and global HIV/AIDS programs committed
6) Extended the Family and Medical Leave Act to cover Gay employees taking unpaid leave to care for their children of same-sex partners
7) Lifted the HIV Entry Ban.
8) Implemented HUD Policies that Would Ban Discrimination Based On Gender Identity
9) Appointed the first ever transgender DNC member
10) Named open transgender appointees (the first President ever to do so) 11) Eliminated the discriminatory Census Bureau policy that kept LGBT relationships from being counted
12) Extended domestic violence protections to LGBT victims
13) Repealed the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (DADT) Discriminatory law.
14) Declared DOMA (Defense of Marriage Act) unconstitutional and stopped Defending In Court
15) Endorsed a U.N. declaration calling for the worldwide decriminalization of gays and lesbians around the world in an efforts to make it a worldwide policy. —
These are 15 accomplishments of the Obama administration (minus the public endorsement of gay marriage) for LBGTQ issues.
Read the other accomplishments on Housing, Finance, Education, Jobs, etc. If that doesn’t float your progressive boat, than have fun voting Republican, or Green, or Xenu’s Panty Raid Party or whatever.
(via brilliantorange)15 steps in the right direction.
(via hellamike)
Yay, Obama!
Booooooo, Fox. (Asshats.)
FOX “News”, everyone.
Fair and balanced, folks.
I haven’t felt this crazy for a while.
It’s dumb. I know it is. I just burnt my breakfast sandwich in the toaster oven. All of a sudden, overwhelmed with self loathing. I can’t even toast a frozen sandwich correctly. Who the fuck do I think I am cooking and baking all the time when prepackaged food gets away from me?! I feel like this was a bad omen and the whole day I’ll be worried something big bad is around the corner. I KNOW how petty and illogical and irrational I sound. But now I can’t shut up that voice in my head reminding me that I’m a huge fuck up and don’t deserve anything good because I can’t even stop a croissant from burning.
Yup. Politics in America.
{previous comments snipped}
TW: Description of depression and suicide
So, one day you are walking along, minding your own business, when suddenly you trip and fall into this enormously deep pit sitting right in the middle of the path. No clue how it got there or how you failed to notice it until you had fallen in. You struggle and try to get out of the pit but the wall are too steep and crumbly and the ground under you is wet and muddy and you make no progress at all to get out.
So there you are. Sitting at the bottom of a dark pit, miserable, with no foreseeable way out. And then you hear a voice from above.
“Hey there stranger, you seem to have fallen into a pit, eh?”
“Help! Help I’m stuck and can’t get out! Please help!”
“Listen, what you need to do now is buck up and see the good things in life. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the flowers are blooming, everything is just grand. Smile!”
And off they go, leaving you in the pit to contemplate how muddy the mud is and how little sunlight actually reaches you, and when you can faintly hear birds signing it is only a reminder of how far down and stuck you are. Then another voice.
“My good friend, how nice to see you down there!”
“Help! For the love of god I am stuck! Help!”
“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go hang at the mall today. We could catch a movie or something.”
“I’m stuck down here! I need help! Get a rope or something, please!”
“Dude, come on. Don’t be so down all the time. If you don’t want to come you could just tell me instead of making excuses. Way to not care about my feelings.”
And off they go. Shit. Now you are in a hole and you hurt your friend’s feelings and you kinda did want to go to the mall. And the mud is really cold. Your feet are starting to sink in and you start spending a lot of energy just to keep from sinking in so far they you can’t move anymore. It is exhausting. But then a voice that you know so well.
“Hey love! How are you today? I bought your favorite food for supper tonight <3”
“Oh thank god! Help please! I fell down here and can’t get out and I am sinking into the mud and I’m so scared that I might sink too far in and never be able to get out!”
“You know, you don’t have to get upset with me.”
“I’m not! I just need help. I love you.”
“Well you certainly have a funny way of showing, moping about down there in that hole. If you really loved me maybe you would climb out so we can go home.”
“I’ve tried! Really I have. The walls are too steep. I can’t do it. I need a ladder or something. Call the fire department!”
“Ugh. You aren’t the only one with problems, you know. Just earlier today I stumble in a small dip in the sidewalk and stepped in a shallow puddle but you don’t see me using it as an excuse to be all self centered. You know what, fine. I’ll just go home and eat by myself. I hope you enjoy your little pity party down there.”
And off they go.
You are desperate and alone even though you can hear and even occasionally see people walking past the opening of the hole. You call out over and over but nobody seems to care or notice. And those that do give you trite little nothings.
“You should have waited till you were older to fall into a hole. Why didn’t you think before you fell in?”
“Kids these days, leaping into holes without any consideration for the rest of us. Grow up already.”
“You know, if I was in a hole, I would have a grand time of it. No rules or concerns to hold me back. I would make mud pies all day long. You are in such a great position.”
“Cheer up! If you smiled more and had some fun you would be out of that hole in no time!”
“Stop crying so much. You’re making the rest of us feel bad.”
At some point somebody hears you and actually listens as you cry for help. They run off and return later with a large crowd of strangers who stand around the rim of your hole shouting down more pointless little nothings and encouraging you. More than a few say things like “think about your family! Being stuck in a hole is so selfish when there are so many people who love you!”
And eventually they all clear out and you are still in the hole and the sun is setting and it genuinely feel likes there is no hope at all.
The end. No, this story doesn’t have a happy ending. It doesn’t have a cheerful humorous joke to sum up the moral. You sit in the hole until you get tired of trying. You stop calling for help. You let yourself sink into the mud up to your knees and waist and chest. Your friends stop coming by. Your partner leaves you because it is too much trouble putting up with you. Your family stops by to admonish you for being down there and embarrassing them so much. And someday you do the only thing that would end your existence in the hole and pile the mud up over your face and suffocate, because as scary and awful as death is, it seems to be a better option than living the rest of your life miserable and cold and in pain stuck at the bottom of a hole unable to enjoy anything or feel anything. And that is the end of my little story.
Pretty much, yeah.
This is the best analogy for depression ever. if anyone knows the OP please give my contact information.
Every bit of this. And it’s LONG OVERDUE.
Anger is contagious.
I should have gone to bed hours ago, but I kept saying, just one more article. I’m a huge news junkie, and with the recent War Against Women, I’m addicted to finding out what the next asinine law or bill will be. I read a really awesome blog post, you can find it here. The article didn’t make me angry so much as the comments. The pure ignorance The Other Side uses. I’d like to address a few of them:
1. “I shouldn’t have to pay for you to have irresponsible sex. If you can’t handle the consequences, don’t have sex.”
Oh, my, dear lord. This needs to be broken down on so many levels. Let’s start with the basics of insurance coverage. I’m going to keep my comments for this concerning employer based health coverage and we’ll get to Medicaid in a second.
I am paying for it. Of my $600 a month I pay in healthcare a month (I pay $7,200 a year in health insurance and make 35k. One FIFTH of my annual income goes to healthcare for my family), $200 of that is for my coverage. My husband will only go to the doctor if bone is showing through skin, and I’m pretty blessed to have a healthy kid who hasn’t been to the hospital for 3 years. Basically, what I’m saying, is I pay a lot more than what my family uses.
I’m the primary user of our insurance for two reasons. One, I’m fucking crazy and no one wants to see me off my meds. And, two, for gynecological health. Should I mention I’ve had cervical cancer cells in the past…and no, they were not HPV, but that nasty genetic kind that woulda kicked in even if I was pure as the driven snow.
Point two. I’m married. I’ve had the same partner in a committed, monogamous relationship for 3 years. My sex isn’t irresponsible…unless you count when I’m having sex instead of sleeping or cleaning the house when it needs it. Then, I have all sorts of irresponsible sex. And a follow up point, we’ll call it point two point one. It wouldn’t matter if I was having sex with anyone I wanted. I am not slut shaming or saying I should be an exception because I’m married. I’m trying to say that I’m in the situation where The Other Side says I should be before having sex, and got married. Am I now supposed to have irresponsible married sex and have another kid we can’t afford? Trust me, if there was another kid, we’re talking food stamps and screw my work’s insurance, I’ll drop it and go on Nevada medicaid.
Point three. At what point is this “I’m not going to pay for you to have sex” going to leak into things like STD screenings and annual exams? I know it sounds slippery slope, but I’m scared about what the next war crime against women will be.
Point four. Don’t provide contraceptives and you will be paying a whole lot for irresponsible sex. A birth, a completely, no hassle, no complications, no epidural, mommy and baby go home in 48 hours birth, will cost insurance companies about $12000. My birth control costs my insurance company about $200 a year, because it’s $27 out of pocket and $15 if I use insurance and pay my deductible. I pay more via my deductible for my birth control than my insurance does. (you know, the more I think about how much money I pay for health insurance and the benefits I get, I feel like I bet on black and lost).
Okay, on to the next point I saw come up a lot from The Other Side
2. I shouldn’t have to pay for something I don’t support/believe in/is against my religion.
Point one. I am mentally ill. Many religions (including the one I was raised in) thought (no pun intended) that it was all in my head and a few conversations with a pastor and some praying would cure my depression and mood swings. I was referred to read the bible when stressed or depressed and be embraced in God’s love and light. Umm, that’s all great, but I don’t think no matter how hard I pray, God’s going to snap his holy fingers and equalize the neurochemicals that make me bi-polar and BPD. Now, I didn’t know any of these terms back then, but I thought even more that something was wrong with me. I prayed so hard asking to just be normal and okay. And then I felt like I couldn’t even pray right or I had pissed off God and deserved to feel the way I did. So first they’ll take my birth control (which by the way, I’m way less crazy when on hormonal birth control, but we’ll get to that later), then they take my Lithium. Cause, you know, I can just pray the crazy away.
Point two. I pay taxes every 15th and last business day of the month. My taxes go to pay for wars in other countries I don’t support. They go to prosecute marijuana cases. They pay for schools that refuse to teach anything but abstinence only programs. The pay private companies that run and overcrowd our prison system. So if insurance is going to be based on belief, then every April 15th I want a checklist. I want to tic a box next to the things I support because I sure as hell don’t believe in the majority of things going on in this country.
Point three. This point has been made a million times, hormonal birth control is also used for reasons other than contraceptives, such as ovarian cysts, acne, and controlling PMS, crams, and flow. When I’m not on the pill, I have my period for 9-17 days. and have cramps. bloating, and excessive craziness the other 13-21 days. Since my insurance decided my Seasoneq which suppressed my period for 3 months was considered a luxury drug (because the cheaper, 28 day cycle contraception was available) and I couldn’t afford $150 copay per pack, I’m on the 28 day cycle stuff. I have my period for about 12 days of the month and PMS for 8.
Point four. You better pray and pray with all your might and heart that you never become employed by a Christian Scientist and your kid gets sick. You know what a Christian Scientist’s health plan is, right? Yup, prayer. Because this is what we’re opening the door to. Jehovah’s Witnesses do not believe in any kind of blood transfusions what so ever, but I’ve never heard a peep from them about their insurance dollars going to those activities.
Let’s see what was next in The Other Side’s bag of rhetoric.
3. Just don’t work for a company who’s insurance doesn’t meet your needs or get private insurance.
Um, have you seen the economy lately? A quick google search says my family of 3 (and this is in great health…I have a history of cancer and mental illness) is about $1500 a month. Let’s also look at the fact that my employer paid premiums are part of my salary…in the sense they are paying me only 35k a year because they are also paying $7200 a year for my family’s health insurance. I highly doubt my HR rep, though awesome as she is, would give me a $7200 raise if I eschewed the company’s health plan for not meeting my needs.
My employer isn’t paying my health insurance out of the goodness of their corporate heart (although my company is pretty great). They are doing it because some how, in American, when all this insurance bull started in the early 1900’s, our insurance became inequitably linked with our employer. We have fed the insurance monster so many sacrificial lambs that it is almost impossible to afford insurance without your employer’s share of the premium. Organizations offered benefits as part of the fringe “benefits” but there’s not really anything fringe about it left. If an employer doesn’t offer “benefits” (I hate that word for employer provided insurance, see above in regards to raise) then they will not have a solid employee base because it’s expected. I’m trying not to get started on a single payer system as that is for another day.
And finally, partially because it’s 3 AM and I might be a little delirious and partly because this is getting really long and I appreciate you for hanging in here with me, it’s freaking 2012. In 1928 women where smuggling diaphragms over from Europe in whiskey bottles. For 84 years we’ve been fighting for our reproductive well being and health. Why are we still fighting now? And why, please tell me why these proponents of small government want to crawl up my vagina?
