mental health

Roar

This past weekend, my husband and I watched a documentary on Hulu: Hysterical. (No, I’m not a huge documentary fan, but our favorite comic, Iliza Schlesinger recommended it) The focus centered around female comedians, but the underlying message was more than that – or maybe I just took more away from it. The things the women discussed were things that impact EVERY woman. And the longer I sat there, the more I found myself reflecting on my life. I heard words people have muttered under their breath (or blatantly said to my face). I saw magazine articles I’d come across while sitting in waiting rooms when I idiotically forgot to bring a book with me (never do that, by the way). And I remembered relationships with old boyfriends.

Even today – NOW – women STRUGGLE with social standards.

(For the men out there – I get it. You have problems and standards you battle, too. However, I’m not guy. So while I can stand up and preach about what you’re going through, it’s going to fall flat. You can mutter under your breath that I’m not being “equal,” but there’s nothing I can do about it. You can either wander off somewhere else or sit quietly and maybe gain a new perspective.)

The ANCIENT (and yes, I’m going to call it that) image of women keeping house STILL persists to this day. We’re expected to present ourselves a certain way – in public AND at home – speak with specific words and tone, maintain a household to meet society’s standards, and have aspirations of keeping our husbands and children happy and satisfied. And it’s utter BULLSHIT. This is why women suffer from depression and anxiety! That crazy image doesn’t work, and it has no place in modern society.

Women are EQUAL to men!

We have the right to do what we want. That includes NOT getting married, NOT having children, NOT cleaning the house all day, and NOT waiting on a man hand-and-foot! We can get whatever jobs we want. If that means we net a bigger paycheck than our spouse, so what? Maybe the house doesn’t look like a magazine picture. So what? Is it comfortable for the people living there? (For the record, no one lives in those damn houses. They’re staged by professionals for the photo shoot) Maybe you don’t have dinner piping hot and on the table when your husband gets home every night. (The horror!) Who the fuck cares? In our house, my husband does the cooking, NOT me. He loves cooking, he’s a thousand times better at it (my idea of dinner before we got married was a bowl of cereal or cheese and crackers), and it’s a healthier option. And he doesn’t mind in the slightest – which is more than I can say of my past relationships.

We’re sitting in the 21st century, and women are still fighting to get their voices heard. If you dare to stand up, you’re hit with criticism for being a bitch. Speak up about something, and you’re told you’re too mouthy. (And, of course, no man will have you) And women use these same insults against each other! That programming is so deeply set in our brains that we hesitate to tear it out! So we tell one another not to say anything, not to make waves, not to DO anything. And then we sit in the corner of our perfectly-kept houses, wishing we were dead.

It HAS to stop.

I spent SO much of my life following that pattern. Because getting slapped down HURTS. When I tried to stand up and say something was wrong, I received insults and sneers. (If I had a penny for every time I’ve been called a bitch, I could retire to a private tropical island) And females are VICIOUS with each other. I stopped standing up. I crawled back into the corners. I let myself get pummeled into silence. I put up with getting pinched and fondled. I watched men get congratulated while I was insulted – for the same behavior. They were model workers; I had shortcomings. When I attempted to say something, I was labeled a troublemaker. At one job, I received a TEN-MINUTE lecture for walking in the door in tennis shoes. (My heels were in my desk, and the office was down a cobblestone street.) Meanwhile, a recent hire wore Converse every day because he jogged on his lunch break. I got another lecture for wearing jeans to climb around oil pipelines. (Never mind that I ended up falling on the rocks the next day and tore straight through my khakis) The men at the job had jeans and no one said a word. An old boyfriend whined when I got home late and dinner wasn’t ready. He was laid off at the time and home – chatting with other girls online. My work schedule also inconvenienced him after he totaled his car and needed to borrow mine.

And I said NOTHING.

Because I’d already learned that NO ONE wanted to hear me. I accepted the blame. I watched other promotions and knew there was no point putting in for them. I had ZERO chance. I ACCEPTED my place. Through school and friends, I’d learned what I was supposed to be. The words, “I’m sorry” became dominant in my vocabulary. It took me forever to dig into my brain and find that damned mind control chip. To realize how screwed up everything was. And when I finally tore out the programming and look backward, I was horrified. Why did I let all of those people – men AND women – shove me into that tiny box labeled, “Women’s Place?” How did I become so afraid and small?

I stopped flinching at the insults. And I refused to back down or sit down when they loomed over me. Which is extremely difficult and scared the shit out of me, in the beginning. And I won’t lie – people HATE me for it. I’ve heard everything in the book. (Though, since I’m married, all of those warnings that no man would have me didn’t come to pass) I refuse to be afraid to stand up for myself and those around me. And you know what? There are other women out there doing the same thing. When you fight your way out of the box, you look around and see others who’ve done the same. It’s a relief (knowing you’re not alone always is), but it’s also empowering. Because you realize that it’s POSSIBLE to break down the walls.

Women HAVE voices. And we deserve to use them. We deserve the places we’ve carved out for ourselves in this world. And NO ONE – man OR woman – has the right to tell us differently. That first roar of defiance? It’s shaky and quiet – I won’t deny that. But as you find your strength and root out that programming, it gets louder. And when it joins with everyone else’s? It has the power to create change. Never let ANYONE extinguish your fire.

mental health

A Fool’s Performance

“Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day.”

~Mark Zusak, The Book Thief

People attach expectations to different times of the year. When the new year shows up, they brim with (false) optimism for the future. Everything is supposed to be shiny and new, and you need to have a brightened outlook for the horizon. Smile and bounce on your toes, cheering on this “new” future that finally arrived. (Let’s discount the fact that all that actually happened was the Earth circled the sun one more time – something it’s managed to do for millions of years…without any assistance from us) And if you DARE to do less than cheer and get excited, you find yourself inundated with memes and treacle-laced sayings encouraging you to get on the bandwagon.

Because, of course, the majority knows best.

There’s no admission that it’s okay if you can’t manage to feel positive. Maybe you’re feeling frightened about something going on. Right now, COVID-19 is still raging out of control. Numbers continue to climb, medical professionals are exhausted and no longer receiving the support and love they got at the beginning of the pandemic, and the vaccine is trickling out. (I won’t get into the fact that the vaccine will take time to go to work) People have died, are dying, and will continue to die. Others survived, but they’re struggling with long-term complications – some of which doctors are puzzling over. That’s overwhelming for people, and it’s scary. But if they dare to speak up, others shush them and tell them to focus on the positive. Their fears are marginalized or discounted entirely.

Nope – Just keep smiling!

Perhaps you’re still struggling with depression lingering from the holidays. Or simply fighting to get out of the pit, in general. That dark shadow shows up unannounced and without warning. You could look at the horizon and see nothing to feel good about. Whispers in your mind could be telling you you’re stuck in the same rut as always. You know this will pass, and you’re fighting, but, right now, smiling and optimism are too much to ask. And those mindless idiots can’t comprehend that. Oh, no – the future’s shining bright with possibility – can’t you see it?

Get out in the sunshine – it’ll fix everything!

This moronic insistence on being happy and positive simply because it’s the new year is damaging. People need be allowed to feel how they feel – and supported for those feelings. Discounting the emotions in favor of forced cheerfulness is damaging. Sometimes things AREN’T bright with possibility. And whatever idiot dreamed up the notion that you can WILL good things to happen should have been drawn and quartered. Because I seriously doubt the people who died from COVID-19 or lost their jobs during lockdown willed that to happen. (You won’t convince me positivity is willed and negativity is not. All things in balance, people)

Feel how you want to feel. Give the emotions a voice. And if people try to shut you down and throw those clichés down your throat, ignore them. Odds are they’re trying to paint over their own true feelings in the first place.

I LOATHE odd-numbered years. I didn’t step into 2021 feeling bright, cheery, or optimistic. I braced myself for a bomb going off. I’m not saying that I expect everything to go wrong (I’ve had good things happen this week), but I’m not smiling or sharing positive messages everywhere. Hell, I’ve already received word I need surgery, and we’re not even a week into the first month!

Admit the way you feel.

Forced cheer won’t help you feel better. I look at friends who are trying to say they’re frightened or sad, and in tromp the Pep Squad. And when I push to encourage them to vent and pour out their feelings, those Pom Poms descend like glitter bombs. It’s a tragedy. You DON’T have to be happy. You DON’T have to feel optimistic. So what if it’s the beginning of the year? It’s a day on a calendar – nothing more. Feel how you want to feel. Being true to yourself matters more than keeping those idiots happy.