Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts

Friday, June 7, 2019

So Much to Rant About


Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 8 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My subject is: Tell us about your life at home. What is your family like? What do you do for fun?

It was submitted by: https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog

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I talk about personal stuff a bit on this blog, but usually that personal stuff involves the past or something I feel or am going through at the time. I don’t really talk about other people much. I try to leave my son off the blog as much as I can, and I have often avoided talking about my own family, the family I still see, to avoid drama if the blog gets read, but I need to vent. Things have been so much lately, and the time has finally come for me to release some anger and resentment, I think. I feel like this might get long, so I’m going to give you the tl;dr version. That’s “too long; didn’t read” for anyone that’s not fluent on internet shorthand.

--I have a chronic illness that makes me housebound most of the time or pay dearly for getting out.

--I also have way too many pets. Several have special needs including a diabetic dog that needs insulin every 8 hours and really limits what I can do away from home even on good days.

--I have an extremely dysfunctional family.

--My kid has hit puberty, and that has been one of the most difficult things I have ever faced in a lifetime full of difficult things. Haha. But no really…

And here we go with the rest of the story.

Around this time of the year 3 years ago, I had what I thought was a viral sinus infection, and I never really got better. For months, I ran a fever, had swollen glands, caught every bug I came in contact with, could barely move around… I felt like I was drunk with a virulent strain of flu all the time, and it’s only gotten worse since then.

I have what’s called Chronic Fatigue Syndrome here in the United States, but in other places, it’s often referred to as myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME). The symptoms are wide-ranging involving several different body systems. I have pretty severe gastroparesis and the symptoms that come with it which means I can no longer digest most proteins or vegetables/fruits. I can tolerate a few veggies from specific families and a few fruits, but they have to be cooked to the point they mostly lose their flavor. I’ve lived off rice, pasta, and potatoes for quite a while now. It’s a common issue for people with cfs/me. I have the joint and muscle aches that go with it to the point that even getting around my house is difficult sometimes. My energy is like a broken battery. At best I can expect to wake up at 50%, and that’s only if I have gotten a good bit of rest, but that rarely happens since insomnia is also an issue. Every single task I do during the day takes away from that battery, and if I overdo it, I pay for it for days or even weeks. My immune system doesn’t function the way it should and reacts to any stressor disproportionately resulting in constant swollen glands and fevers. I have trouble regulating my body temperature altogether though. My allergies are worse than ever and allergy attacks also trigger bad days. But the worst of it is probably brain fog. That’s an umbrella term for cognitive issues and for me it looks like not being able to recall words and actually say them. I know what I want to say, but I can’t actually say it. I lose track of what I’m doing much easier. Things take a lot more focus. My memory is shot, and I have real issues concentrating. I’m sensitive to sounds, smells, and lights. My migraines worsened.

And like now I can’t even talk about the full extent of it because I feel like people are reading this and rolling their eyes at how much I’m complaining, but this is my fucking truth, and it sucks. It sucks living like this… It’s not even living.

I exist.

I exist to push through as much as I can and take care of as much as I can while being invisibly disabled and being surrounded by people who refuse to understand or even acknowledge I’m not well. I’m expected to show up regardless of how I feel or what else I may have going on and then treated terribly when I have to be late. It’s one thing to be this sick. It’s another when even your own damn family doesn’t give a shit. The people in my home get it because they see it on a daily basis, but even then, even when I’m visually and obviously struggling to even walk, I still have to ask for help. So this illness is a big factor in how things go at my house. There’s no cure for it. This is my life now. Period. It’s difficult. I’m proud of myself for not giving up or giving in and for still managing to take care of myself and my home, but that doesn’t mean, at all, that it doesn’t weigh on me every single day of my life and nearly every single moment I’m awake.

Between rescuing, fosters, foster fails, and an accidental litter I have animals in the double digits that live with me. It was a lot of work when I wasn’t sick, but now? Oh boy. I have two cats with vision issues and anxiety. I have several with allergic skin conditions. My dane has an allergy issue as well. My chiweenie is old as Moses and needs glucosamine daily, and my staffie mix has severe diabetes. When she first showed signs, her blood sugar levels were over 500 when tested. And for months even with insulin, changes in food, more changes in food, and even more changes in food, it stayed in the 300-400 range. I was ready to pull my hair out when I researched more on my own and figured out that most dogs metabolize insulin faster than humans, so now I’m beholden to dosing her every 8 hours. It’s 9 a.m., 5 p.m., and 1 a.m. give or take 30 minutes. She isn’t great with anyone else doing her shots. She’s not really a people person at all. So…yeah, even without the cfs being a hindrance to going out and doing fun things, it’s hard to plan around that schedule. And no matter how many times I tell family and others that I can’t just let her go without or move it up too much too soon, they still make plans at times I can’t be there then get angry that I’m “late” even when I explain, again, that it will be an issue for me. You know, I get that people can’t always cater to my schedule even though I’ve always made changes to work with theirs. But to also get angry over it? That’s too much. I’m not going to risk my dog dying (and yes one missed dose causes a huge spike) for any reason much less a dinner or a party that, by now, people should know I can’t make it to at the time it starts. I love my animals. It’s not their fault I’m sick. I don’t want to find homes for them, and I’m certainly not going to neglect them. Sometimes it can be extremely frustrating, but more than that, they give me the kind of unconditional love and laughs I don’t get anywhere else. And when I can’t find any other reasons to keep going, I know I’m the only one that knows their medication schedule and they need me. Maybe that’s a bit dark, but it’s true. Holding on to the little things helps so much sometimes.

I guess you can see why the family is dysfunctional already, but I’d be lying if there wasn’t more to say. I want a peaceful life where I can be sick and have a bad day at my own home without someone taking it as abandonment. I want to be able to go to my mom’s house and NOT have my sister in law purposefully ignore me and not speak for months on end then get angry and throw a tantrum when I stop trying to make any effort. How many times do you have to show up at someone’s house with crafts in hand only for them to run off to their bedroom and slam the door before the problems aren’t blamed on you anymore instead of them? I’d really like to know. For the rest of my life, my family, the very little I have left, will always think of me as the depressed 16 year old dealing with sexual assault related trauma, abuse trauma, depression, and PTSD that made their life inconvenient. I’m 30 fucking 7 but I’m still treated like the misunderstood kid that didn’t clean her room and hated everything including and especially herself. No matter what happens, any tension with my sister in law will always be my fault because I was “tough to handle” as a teen. A bitch. She will never have any responsibility in it because that’s “just how Jenniy is.” It’s absurd. People grow up and change. I’m not even close to the same person I was that long ago, but I can’t escape it. And the kicker of it is….I SHOULD HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO FUCKING THERAPY not shit on for having a dirty room or not loading the dishwasher correctly. I shouldn’t be called “lazy” because I was a depressed teen and that somehow suggests that I can’t actually possibly be really for real sick with a chronic illness. I’m still “lazy.”

And then I have my kid’s father who lets his wife call our son “princess” because he doesn’t meet her definition of manliness, who won’t take up for him because he’d rather his child have to deal with her than argue about it. I refuse to discuss my son’s personal stuff here even with a made up name, but generally speaking, his father decided it was best to hide some things from me that could have led to serious consequences just to have one over on me, I guess. I’ve literally begged this man to spend more time with his kid, so if he really wanted to have a better relationship with him, he’s had ample opportunity to do so in a way that doesn’t include A—keeping secrets and B—treating our kid like his buddy instead of his son, but he’s never done so, and my kid shouldn’t be put at risk because for once he knew something that was going on and I didn’t. By chance. Who does that? Who puts their own kid at risk just to have a fucking secret then gets to call me angry and a shitty mom when I call him out on it? Am I perfect? By no means. But I would never dare put my own ego over my kid’s well being. And I damn sure wouldn’t do it with a partner I didn’t even want to be with and talks terribly about all the time. I’ve had to be contacted twice for a “reference” from child services for these people because her daughter from a previous relationship lies about them when she is angry, but when my son tried to explain something she had done to him recently on the very same day I was contacted by child services, HE is the one who was aggressively called a liar and even when proven, his stepmother refuses to apologize, and his dad won’t say a word about it. When I pointed out that he gets treated differently, I was told, if anything, he has fewer rules. Yeah, I fucking gd know. That’s part of the problem. Going down there with a dad who treats him like a friend instead of being his actual dad, who has no chores and no rules set for him means I get that much more attitude when he comes home and I do have more of a routine. I’m his teacher, his parents, his counselor, and his confidant. But I’m not his buddy. We have a good relationship even through the teenage attitude. I love him. We talk about things and work on art together, but we aren’t besties. He has his own friends. What he needs from me is love, support, and guidance. He needs the exact same from his dad. Not friendship. So not getting treated differently means he has no rules but gets bullied by his stepmother and his stepsister gets away with everything. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

I think that because of my own issues with my mom that I thought so much of our strained relationship was due to her own mental health and mine as well, and I guess I expected none of the attitude and tension that comes with raising a teenager. AND BOY WAS I WRONG ABOUT THAT. That was kind of my bad though. I underestimated the full veracity of puberty hormones and the changes that come with that. We get along fine most of the time. We had some issues for awhile, but a lot of that was deeper rooted, and we’ve talked it out and been more open with each other. It’s not perfect. I don’t think there is a way to refer to life as a parent as perfect when you’re raising a teen especially when the other parent isn’t doing their part and never really has, but considering we’re around each other all day every day because I homeschool, we do alright. It’s hard not to take the attitude and the angst personally sometimes though, and I have unabashedly cried in the shower many a day.

My home life, then, has been less than ideal especially considering I don’t have a lot of outlets because of my illness and needing to be around the house every 8 hours. I can’t go on vacation to escape it for a little while. I can’t even be gone for more than a few hours at a time without paying for it for days afterward. I can’t even go out to eat at a restaurant because of my food issues. A lot of my living is done through social media and books (when I can focus on reading). What fun I do have is time spent online with people I’ve never met who are more considerate of what’s going on in my life than most people who’ve known me my whole life. Funny how that works.

To end on a better note, though, I have started some art stuff and my own etsy shop selling enamel pins. I used to think I could screw up a stick figure, but it turns out, I’m not all that bad for a beginner. I’ve collected enamel pins for a long time now and really enjoy them. I wear one every time I leave the house and make it part of whatever outfit I have on that day. It gives me an extra way to express myself through style and show off some of my geekier tastes, but I had some trouble finding things I really wanted, so I decided to try and make my own. I have a manufacturer that actually molds and produces the pins themselves, but they’re completely my design, and having people buy something with my artwork on it has been a lifegiving sort of feeling. It’s amazing. I don’t really think I can put it into words. I love when people connect to a piece I write, but I’ve always been scared to put myself out there more than a blog or occasionally a free e-zine. This is something different entirely. I’ve laid my own creations out there for people to buy and review, to reject or love, and they’ve kind of been a big hit so far. I’m over the moon about it, and honestly, I need this. I need something in my life I can sink into and be proud of right now or all the bullshit from everything else gets too heavy.

Here’s my shop if anyone is interested in looking:



Thanks for letting me vent. I was dreading this when I first got the prompt but I think I needed to vent more than I realized.

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Friday, November 4, 2016

Not So Thankful

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 13 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My subject is: What is something you AREN'T thankful for? 

It was submitted by: http://www.notthatsarahmichelle.blogspot.com.
 
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I was super glad I didn't have to talk about what I am thankful for. Seriously. I just knew with it being November, it would probably come up in my prompts. It's been a tough few months around my household, and while I do try to focus on the good things, I really didn't want to get all fake and make it seem like I have my shit together. I don't. Not by a long shot. Everyone else will be doing their 30 Days of Thanks like it's a competition to see who has the greatest life and I will be over here eyerolling so hard I look like I need an exorcism. And maybe I do. That might explain a lot. 

So here in all its glory is a list of things I am not thankful for this year.

· Working in retail hell

· People who shit in the sink at our store and leave it

· That woman who watched her child throw up in our floor at work and just left it laying there.

· Men who think it’s appropriate to loudly comment on my tits while I’m making minimum wage to smile at them.

· Men who feel they need to tell me to smile more

· People who feel it’s their duty to treat anyone in a service position like absolute dog shit just because we have to take it with a smile.

· The fact that 2016 decided it was THE year that everyone would die.

· Bill collectors

· Minimum wage being absolutely disastrously low

· This clusterfuck of an election

· People who still don’t get what cultural appropriation is

· People who think that being politically correct is a sign of weakness instead of realizing it is about respect

· The phrase “all lives matter”

· Locker room talk and its acceptance

· Cases like Brock Turner where the future of a rapist is more important than making sure he never rapes again

· Boxes with like 50,000 cans of Vienna sausages in them

· Sky shelves

· White people wearing corn rows and getting featured in magazines

· Lil Wayne

· Ignorant Halloween costumes

· Cranberry sauce in a can

· Underwire poking out of my bra while I’m at work because that’s just the perfect fucking time to deal with even more bullshit, eh?

· Walmart registers that refuse to scan printable coupons

· Coupons (it’s a love-hate relationship)

· Having not quite straight but not quite curly hair

· Hot dogs

· That one kind of person who feels it’s absolutely necessary to tell me I will regret my tattoos

· Answering the questions: “are those real?” and “did they hurt?” about my tattoos multiple times a day

· Seeing on average 120 people in 4 ½ hours on a cashiering shift

· Remakes, shitty ones anyway. Michael Bay ruined my childhood.

· Ashy elbows

· 100% humidity

· THE SUN

· Not having multiple Halloweens per year

· Lost. Not being lost but the series Lost that took so much of my fucking time just to end that way.

· Cliffhangers. My heart can’t take it. My anxiety can’t take it.

· Oh. Yeah. Anxiety period.

· My child being a hurricane.

· Climate change deniers.

· Fox News

· Being lactose intolerant. I just want a fucking bowl of frosted flakes that tastes like it’s supposed to. Is that so much to ask?

· Adventure Time and Regular Show coming to an end

· Pokemon Go costing money. FUCKERS!

· Survey apps. They never do a damn big of good.

· Generic Cheez Its. No. Just no.

· Sports. Whatever, man.

· Patronizingly pink tools

· The Walking Dead. I AM SO DONE.

· Makeup not being made for pale people. Im tired of looking like Donald Trump. Orange is not a natural color, yall.

· Hairballs.

· Being self conscious

· Pretending not to be self conscious

· Body con dresses

· Being financially unable to be more conscientious about what I buy… coffee, chocolate, clothes, food, whole department stores… they all take further advantage of marginalized populations

· Politicians

And finally because who has the time to read my entire list… crazy relatives.

So yeah… I have a list just as long of things I am absolutely thankful for, but as I said, it’s nice to be honest and vent about all the things we avoid bitching about during the holiday season. That’s life. Balance. There are as many pros as cons, and sometimes one outweighs the other. It’s absolutely good and necessary to find the good in life even if it’s only small things, the little things, but I also think it’s vital to be open, honest, and (when possible) humorous about the things that you don’t care for, the cons, the negatives, the things giving your trouble in your life at the time. Burying them to act like life is perfect on social media isn’t going to help anybody. Keep it real. And have a good Thanksgiving.

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Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

Baking In A Tornado http://www.bakinginatornado.com/2016/11/secret-subject-swap-serial-wanderer.html

Not That Sarah Michelle http://notthatsarahmichelle.blogspot.com

The Bergham Chronicles http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com

Spatulas on Parade http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com

Confessions of a part time working mom http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/2016/11/november-secret-subject-swap-meltdown.html

The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver http://www.thediaryofanalzheimerscaregiver.com/blog.html

The Lieber Family Blog http://thelieberfamily.com

Dinosaur Superhero Mommy http://dinoheromommy.com/

A Little Piece of Peace http://little-piece-of-peace.blogspot.com

Never Ever Give Up Hope http://batteredhope.blogspot.com

Evil Joy Speaks http://www.eviljoyspeaks.com

Friday, May 13, 2016

A Little Ranty Thing

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

My words are: pollen, allergies, last day, help, boxed wine, school. They were submitted by: http://notthatsarahmichelle.blogspot.com
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It’s the season for pollen and allergies and apparently crippling sinus infections. For a little over a week now, I have had a raging fever and the type of pressure in my face that makes me feel like a balloon filled to nearly bursting. It’s been a snotty week, and it’s the end of the school year for Evan, so we have been a bit slack on things. I can’t exactly say that’s a great development as we edge closer and closer to the last day of the year because Evan is already a bit antsy like a caged animal when it comes to doing his schoolwork.

I know exactly why I chose to homeschool him. There are reasons stacked upon reasons, and for the last year and a half it has mostly been a decision that I don’t question, but there are times like the last few weeks that I wonder exactly what kind of nut I must be.

Is that the key factor in good parenting? Wondering about your sanity?

Evan has ADHD, but I have chosen at this point not to put him on medication. Exercise before he works on schoolwork, frequent breaks for more exercise, tips and tricks, and some extra supplements have been the choice treatment so far, and most days that seems to work. Most. Certainly not all. There are days when he spaces out every lecture, hands in worksheets he never touched, can’t answer a single question about what the work involved that day, or finds a way to do anything and everything else besides what he has been assigned. I won’t lie; those days are fucking trying, and with both of us alternating being sick and it being the end of the year, they have happened a bit more frequently.

The fact that I have an ugly and severe case of generalized anxiety disorder doesn’t really help things either. The tough days are the days I question every little thing I do. If I am ruining him, if he will be fine and be able to still make something of himself, if I expect too much, push him too hard, make him feel loved… My head fills with worry and stress and questions and freaks and bends and shakes and I feel like everything I try to do crumbles in front of me.

Then I pull through it, recognize what’s going on for what it is, and I flip anxiety a double bird. Anxiety can eat a bag of dicks. Really. It’s enough to make a girl want to sit around in her pajamas watching shitty tv and drinking boxed wine.

There’s such a stigma with asking for help, with admitting you have a problem and need to lean on someone for awhile, so mostly I have kept this to myself trying to deal with it all, trying to find my own way.

Anxiety is a little like being obsessed with Justin Bieber. It’s a big deal for you and it affects your daily life in innumerable ways, but it’s absolutely horrible having to tell anyone about it unless you find someone else that’s obsessed with that little twatwaffle too.

By the way, I am absolutely not obsessed with Justin Bieber. Even my guilty pleasures would probably turn their noses up at that. But, if I were a closeted Bieleber, I’m fairly certain admitting so in public would be as painful as asking for help with the anxiety that often leaves me crippled by my own thoughts, unable to sleep, and wondering just what the fuck I am going to do with myself.

So here I am nearing the end of another week still with a fever having explained adding decimals for like the 60.45th time and hoping that maybe my pulse rate will drop below 90 some time before the a.m. so I can get in bed at a decent hour.

If it doesn’t I may just opt for whiskey instead of wine.

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Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:

Baking In A Tornado http://www.bakinginatornado.com/2016/05/use-your-words-change-is-chocolate-cake.html

Southern Belle Charm http://www.southernbellecharm.com

Not That Sarah Michelle http://notthatsarahmichelle.blogspot.com

Spatulas on Parade http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/2016/05/pig-on-pig-take-2-bacon-wrapped-pork.html

The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver http://www.thediaryofanalzheimerscaregiver.com/blog.html

Dinosaur Superhero Mommy http://dinoheromommy.com/2016/05/13/saving-money-with-freezer-meals/

My Brain on Kids http://mybrainonkids.net

The Bergham Chronicles http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com

Never Ever Give Up Hope http://batteredhope.blogspot.com

Climaxed http://climaxedtheblog.blogspot.com

Confessions of a part time working mom http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/2016/05/use-your-words-jump-rope.html

The Angrivated Mom http://www.angrivatedmom.wordpress.com/

Sunday, March 22, 2015

#Gamergirl



Lissa is sprawled out and halfway under the cream colored comforter on her bed when she hears her phone vibrate. It snaps her back from near-sleep with a jolt, but she just as quickly dismisses the idea of checking it. It’s too late as it is, and she figures whatever it is can wait. If it is an emergency, the person will call, right? Right. That internal semi-debate is over almost as soon as it begins then she settles herself back into the pillows pulling the comforter up higher over her shoulders.

It’s not long before the phone vibrates again. And again. And again. It doesn’t finish that signature buzzbuzz buzzzzz before it starts again. She’s mega-annoyed when she finally sits up in bed and snatches the phone off the nightstand. If it’s Amy, she thinks, pining over some guy she saw at the bar, I swear I will kill her. She swipes the lock screen on her phone and enters in her security code. In her frustration and sleep-state, it takes a couple tries before she enters it correctly while the phone continues its neverending cycle of vibrations. What the fuck is going on? Finally she gets it unlocked and slides the notification menu down. Twitter. Twitter. Over and over and over. She can’t delete one notification before another one pops up. She swipes the notification menu back up to open the Twitter app itself. She doesn’t even have 100 followers on Twitter, so she has no idea what's happening.

Her heart is beating harder with her frustration and a slight sense of panic. Nothing good could come from a blow up like this on her Twitter. She’s read the stories. She knows what women on the Internet have to go through or really anyone on the Internet.

When her feed loads, she touches the icon for her notifications. By now there are dozens of them, but she doesn’t stop to read them yet. She wants to see what started it all.

Oh shiiiiiit, she thinks. She sees it and knows immediately how fucked she is. She tweeted a photo of her GTAOnline character, a woman dressed in a corset and made a snarky comment about how ridiculous it is to think a woman would boost cars in that thing without her tits falling out. She meant it to be funny. I mean, she’s the one that put the corset on her when there were other options. And she tagged it… Of course she did. How stupid could she be.

#gtaonline

#allaboutthecleavage

#sensibleoptionsforcartheft

#gamergirl

#toosexyforyourcar

And that’s all it took. The tweets are still pouring in calling her an idiot, telling her she gave gamers a bad name, demanding she shove her feminism up her twat. The insults come hurtling toward her at light speed.

Cunt.

Bitch.

Psycho.

Fat.

Ugly.

Stupid.

Everything that people will call a woman when they don’t like what that woman says…

She has a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she reads through more. There are people threatening to shove her game controller up her various orifices, to rape her with it, and even to kill her. There are more telling her she should kill herself. Fuck. Her address! Her whole entire fucking address is posted. Photos from her personal Facebook page have been uploaded with comments about her appearance. Photos from Instagram! Even that risqué one she took in the bathtub with the hashtag gamerslut.

And then she sees it… some guy retweeted her address and says he’s exactly 57.4 miles from her house and will be there to burn it to the ground in just over an hour.

Her heart thunders in her chest. Her ears are ringing. In the glow of the phone, the room looks like it’s spinning. She has to make a run for the bathroom barely making it to the toilet before what’s left of her midnight snack is reversing its trajectory.

What do I do now? Do I call the cops? Would they take it seriously? Is it serious?

Am I safe?

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It’s quite possible that in this scenario, the main character IS fairly safe. She *might* not actually get her house burned down as the threats against people online often end up being empty ones meant to scare a person into silence, but that’s not always the case either. We live in a world where women have been targeted and murdered simply for not wanting to sleep with a man or for being a female in a male dominated industry because, as a lot of men will tell you, no woman could ever be successful in
a field that men love without fucking men to get to the top and those “females” deserve their unethical actions to be exposed, right? Amirite?? We seriously live in a world where a woman who states publicly that she believes in the gender wage gap and wants equal pay will be threatened with rape, where a woman can tweet a smartass comment about a sports game and be threatened with rape. And, unfortunately, this world is one where 98% of rapists never spend time in prison.

How can we guarantee safety for women in that kind of world?

Our society has evolved to a more technologically based one. We live and thrive on social media. We stay buried in our phones. We summarize our lives in 140 neat little characters. We exist in snapshots and tidbits. There’s no denying this change. Yet, there are no ways to protect yourself as an adult when online threats and cyberstalking happen. Most state laws that actually have cyberbullying laws use those laws to instruct public schools to have policies to punish these occurrences for students. Adults have nothing. Elliot Rodgers uploaded his entire manifesto online, but no one would do anything. Rape threats are made every second, but no one has a way to take legal recourse for those threats. Regardless of many people feeling like the government has enough power, that we have enough laws as is, the safety of women, of men, of children is truly at risk when there is no legal statute nor court precedent to protect them allowing assholes to make threats, publish addresses and terrorize others freely without consequence. That freedom only bolsters these bullies increasing the intensity and frequency of their attacks.

Even if you can argue the absence of any real threat, the potential for crippling mental health issues stemming from the kind of situation the character in the story faced is very much present, accounted for, and real. Stress, anxiety, depression… even post-traumatic stress disorder has been claimed following an attack. Clinical psychologists have agreed that this is a very real possibility. Given my education in counseling/psychology, I agree. The constant barrage of threats and bullying could most definitely lead to the development of PTSD which involves anxiety, emotional deregulation, emotional intensity, avoidance of triggers, nightmares, insomnia, inability to focus, reckless behavior, hopelessness, intense shame or guilt, and interpersonal problems.

There’s no magic fix that will eliminate this sort of behavior, but if these sorts of things happened face to face, the offending person would be charged with harassment, stalking, or possible even terroristic threats. An evolving, technologically dependent society needs laws that reflect the times. We should already be at this point instead of leaving people with no actual way to legally protect themselves. Many end up fleeing their own homes and hiding out until the blowback dies down.

As a society, we need to demand more be done and stop dismissing these behaviors as empty threats from neckbeards still living with their moms. That may actually be the case, but why are we so willing to risk people’s safety to protect assholes who hide behind a computer screen?

Fuck that. People’s wellbeing should always come before the unhindered freedom to be a dickhead. Period the end.

So, share the stories, demand people listen, and push for more to be done. That push is the only way to get anything done.

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This has been another installment of Sunday Confessions! Be sure to check out the More than Cheese and Beer page for other linkups and the Facebook page for anonymous confessions