life with talking trees

Its no great secret there's a few people I've fallen out with in a big way. People who continue to be friends with other friends of mine. I'm totally cool with that. I am sometimes sorry that I have certain aspects of my personality that make it so I cannot continue a friendship sometimes - that makes things awkward for my friends. I'm occasionally puzzled that the issues I had with those specific people didn't crop up with other people and I wonder "what is it about me - good or bad - that makes it so that some things are just irreconcilable?"

To be fair, there's some people I've fallen out with that I went back later and patched up with. Because I'm actually NOT an asshole. I realized, over time, that either the problem we had could be "fixed" (because I realize we both WANT to fix it) or the "problem" never really existed in which case I get up off my ass and do my best to apologize and make amends. I've been blessed/lucky so far that the people I've apologized to have accepted my apology and patched things up with me. Each time, i'm really surprised by that and really really grateful. Maybe things will never be all sunshine and roses, but I've remained friends with those people still and I feel honored to this day.

But there's a rare few people I fell out with that I can't go back to. And it bothers me not because I particularly miss them but because I had attachments to them that I *do* miss.

And in that group, there's a couple of people I fell out with that I can't go back to because *they* are the ones who need to apologize to me. I'm still convinced of that. I wish they would apologize to me, but they won't. And that makes me sad as hell.

Because every year since "breaking up" with each of them, I've gone back over the correspondence between us and tried to figure out where *I* went wrong. And I come to the same conclusion each time: I may not have handled things in the best possible way (if that can exist) but I still do not feel *I* did something wrong, other than not like something *they* did to *me*.

And there's the difference: the people I've apologized to? I did something to them. I did something wrong. SO I apologized. It doesn't matter what prompted me to do what I did, unless its part of my apology (like the person I scratched out of my life ever-so-rudely because I was basically emotionally confusing her with someone else who had hurt me badly) and that's only to make them see that I know it really was MY fault. Because sincerity is important to me. I really go over things like this on a regular basis. Fairness matters, in friendships. If I hurt someone, no matter how slightly, its on me to see that, own it, and make amends if possible.


Lastly, there's one or two people I hurt on purpose because honestly, I was tired of them and their crazy shit. I felt pressured and pushed and put upon and I was tired of dealing with their constant crap. So I more or less jumped on a chance to get rid of them. I'm not proud of it, but seriously, when you find yourself in the middle of a relationship that you realize you don't want to continue what in hell DO you do?

Anyway, I'm still thinking about one person, out of all the people I "broke up" with, who really disappointed me. She turned out to be harboring all kinds of secret resentment and judgements on me. It had been creeping out over time until I pushed the issue. Then she just unloaded on me.

This was my annual re-reading of our last correspondence and rather than feel angry and hurt all over again? I just feel sad. I really liked her... until her judgey started seeping out and I couldn't get her to admit it. To the last, she railed and ranted against me and everything about me. Things that weren't even true, had she bothered to TALK to me. But she had stopped talking to me some time ago before that blew up.

That's why I had to turn my back and walk away. That's why I'm sad. Because I really did think we were friends. But friends don't do that: they don't hold some negative shit in so long that it become a ticking bomb. So she stopped being my friend before we had it out. But it took me a couple of years to realize that. it makes me sad.

I'm distancing myself from people who have disappointed me in their ethics, morals and values.

We don't have to be the same in any of the three but you do have to be honest about yours and consistant. When you rant and rail against someone else breaking "your morals" then turn around do the same damned thing - "oh but this is DIFFERENT"

Then I do not want to be close to you. Because I have no idea if I'm going to be the next target of your "flexible" standards. Or someone I care about.

And all this time I've no idea if you have been judging ME for our differences.

Yes, I am not pleased if certain specific standards of ours are different and there's some non-negotiables but really its a matter of honesty.

Standards are what we hold even when its difficult.

Lastly, if you care about someone AT ALL, then you would check yourself whenever you might be doing something that would cause strife in their life. Even if it brings temporary pleasure, that's not an excuse to create problems for someone else. Even if it means denying yourself something nice, that's not an excuse to make someone elses life difficult.

“If you don't stick to your values when they're being tested, they're not values: they're hobbies.”
― Jon Stewart

Recently, a friend pointed me to a blog by someone she really likes. Unfortunately, the entry I started reading was about using a word that the author does not like.
I liked her writing. I did not agree with her plea at all. Being as I am unfamiliar with that writer, I didn't feel "right" about leaving a comment disagreeing. So I'll talk about it here.

The word she is opposed to is "crazy"

From the bulk of the entry, I surmise she is someone who is psychiatric care. Like me. And my husband. And my son. And most likely eventually my daughter. Then there's all my friends and some family.
As we all know, its not that our society has gotten more crazy, its that our understanding of brain disorders has widened and deepened and many disorders are treatable now that weren't even seen as brain dysfunctions before. When I was a teen, depression was something you talked about with a counsellor. THere were anti-depressants but they were based on amphetamine and they were being phased out for myriad reasons. Brain science was very much in its infancy. Sociology was barely talked about. Cultural anthropology and evolutionary biology weren't really on the radar. Certain conditions were considered "crazy" if you had to be medicated. Because generally, back then being medicated meant you were probably incarcerated. (except for the upper-middle class who had drug dealers called doctors and everything was all about anxiety)
So when I was younger, "Crazy" when used to describe a person wasn't so much perjurative as it was damnedably descriptive: a crazy person was someone out of control and probably locked up, or SHOULD be locked up.

Now we're in an age of science that's just dazzling. The things we understand (and the things we know we don't understand and are looking for) are just astounding to me. They've proven that depression can be chemical. They've proven that Tourettes is a brain dysfunction, not a rebellious nature. They know the difference between someone with epilepsy and someone with dissociative disorder. It is amazing to me the things we've "discovered" in the last thirty years.
So to me, "crazy" has never really meant "someone who needs meds". When using it to describe a person, "crazy" means psychotic, chaotic, uncontrollable, dangerous, incomprehensible... etc you get the picture. But a person who takes zoloft? or Paxil? Or anxiety meds? that's not "crazy" that's just someone with a brain dysfunction.

So reading her essay about how hearing the word "crazy" makes her cringe and she finds it "ablist" rather bothers me. Not in an annoyed way but in a sad way. As I see it, the problem is in her point of view. SHE identifies as "crazy" but feels that "crazy" is a perjurative. But from what I read, she's not in need of incarceration or sedation or restraints. She's not "crazy" she's just got some brain disorder.
As many people pointed out, the word "crazy" is a very contextual word. Its useful to describe all sorts of chaotic situations and incomprehensible objects. I do agree that our society has gotten a tad lazy at times and "crazy" is overused. It's not a light word or it shouldn't be. "silly" isn't "crazy" "amusing" isn't "crazy" "mixed up" isn't "crazy"
But that's just English and slang for you; some words get favored for a while and come to mean all sorts of shades that it never covered before. So it was with "dynamite" and so it is with "crazy" (and the next word I'll talk about) I could go on for years about words that fell into favor and got completely overblown until the next word (I had a particular loathing for the all-purpose word "tight") came along. But "crazy" isn't really one of them. It's always been used in many contexts. It's a very all-purpose descriptive. Chaotic, stressful, untenable, degenerative, destructive, insane, disordered, uncontrollable, not to mention it can replace good ole "very"
That's how our language works sometimes. "crazy" was never a medical term or a technical term. It has always covered many shades of meaning. So to pull out one aspect of it and say "because it has this meaning to me I don't like people using it in ANY context.
I just don't agree. You can't dictate that to all of society. Not when its a word that has always had a wide basis.
If you think one word is perjurative, I can get behind that. Calling someone "crazy" directly can be a serious insult. It can also be a term of affection. It can also be a flippant comment. It can also be a strengthener of a more important notion. But to think that every time someone uses it it somehow belittles you because it CAN be a perjurative... I have a hard time with that.
I'd feel the same way if the term discussed was "Dark"
There is a difference between the word "dark" and "darkie"
If someone tried to tell me I can't say "its a dark night" because they are too reminded of the term "darkie" I'd have to respectfully say "sorry, no can do"
So I'll say things like "I had a crazy day" and if that makes some odd person somehow cringe, then I am sorry their self-image is so skewered.

Then there's the "R" word.
Let me be frank: I use the "R" word when referring to objects or situations. I am totally okay with that.

I do not use that word about people unless I am being flippant and assuredly private. It is not acceptable to use that word as a descriptive term and I agree.

No, The "R" word used to be a technical/medical term and thus has many more applications than just people, but of course it evolved in slang and came to mean one thing: "irrevocably stupid"

Mentally disabled people are not irrevocably stupid. The new meaning of the "R" word is incorrect historically and technically but it is too late. Furthermore, our ability to diagnose and label the forms of intellectual impairment have widened dramatically since the "R" word was first used and in some sense, it no longer applies anyway. Thus it can no longer be used in its original form to describe a medical condition any more than "crazy" can be used to describe someone with a brain dysfunction. It simply isn't accurate. The difference is that the definition of "crazy" has not changed in either general use or slang use. Because it has MANY definitions. The "R" word has only ever had one definition. Originally it meant "slow growth" It doesn't mean that anymore and everyone knows it. So we cannot justify using that term on people anymore. Perhaps in private conversation when referring to someone everyone agrees is in fact "irrevocably stupid" it will get used, I'm sure, but I think/hope its use is dying off. I like to think society is coming around to the understanding that just about no one is irrevocably stupid. I like to be naive like that sometimes.

The last word is "gey"
I don't think I really have to get too into it here to outline why I just won't use that word and I hate it and I will call out anyone who uses it. IN light of everything I've said about "crazy" and the "R" word, I should think everyone can grasp why "ghey" (I don't give a shit how you spell it, we KNOW what you mean) is just wrong.

Me: (woken up from disturbed sleep on couch) Huzzat? Wha?
Baph: (rather peeved being as sleeping on couch is agreed to be prime insult to other person in relationship) Why the hell are you sleeping on the couch?
Me: (groggily) because there was a monster in the bathroom.
Baph: (suspicious and still peeved) A monster?
Me: yeah. A monster...
Baph: (walking away, disgusted) yeah, right, a monster. Whatever.

MANY HOURS LATER:
Baph: (on telephone) Oh, I killed the monster in the bathroom this morning.
Me: (eternally grateful and relieved) You did?! Oh thank god.
Baph: Yeah, he wanted to take a shower with me.
Me: Ugh, was he nice about it, or nasty?
Baph: Nasty. I was thinking, "no!! You don't get to shower with me! ONLY CASSANDRA gets that right!"
Me: UGH. *giggle*

I got a migraine attack something fierce at work today. I came to work around 7am, but no one was there. Wha?? The manager finally drives up, hustles to the door and let's us both in. Just the two of us. Wha? Turns out the opening crew came to work on time, sans one person. That one person was the person who had the keys to open the door. The three who were left, called everyone they could but no one answered their phone. THey finally left and went to their respective homes. One person kept calling the manager until they finally woke him up. He came running to the store. I clocked in 15 minutes early to help him open the store. What is supposed to take about 30 minutes, we did in less than 5. Well actually, we didn't; he just opened the store before we were ready. As a result, we gave away about 4 litres of coffee because the cash register was not ready. Heaven forbid we should ask our precious customers to wait for their fucking coffee. Heaven forbid we just tell them to go up the the street to one of the other Starbuck's! There was a guy who sat in his car, waiting at least an hour, just to get his freakin Starbucks coffee!

I really mean it when I say, Starbuck's customers are the most spoiled people on the planet. They get away with murder in the store and have ridiculous expectations about how completely they want their ass kissed. Mind you, if you go into a Starbucks; unless you are polite, most of us behind that counter automatically think you are a big spoiled brat. Don't even start to defend yourself. If you can't be the least bit polite to the poor jerk standing behind that counter then you are just as spoiled as all the other rich assholes who come in to my particular store. I can't tell you how many people came in today who were so nice and understanding to me, while I moved around like a sloth, crippled by red-hot-pokers in my brain and blurred vision and nausea. But for every nice customer (most of whom are regulars) there had to be at least four or five people who were annoyed, snappish, rude and snobby to boot about how I was handling the situation. People can't even smile, what's up with that?! Even though I was actively thinking about just walking off and "fuck this stupid job!" I still managed to smile at every customer, be polite and courteous and give them what they wanted. Oh but I guess I forgot, I'm just a stupid peon who is obvioudly beneath the likes of the special golden Starbuck's customers. Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to go home and cry myself to sleep in a darkened room but Starbuck policy is that unless you are at the emergency room, you are responsible for finding someone else to cover your shift. If you can't find someone, oh well too bad for you. Eventually, someone agreed to cover the last two hours of my shift, so I got to go home. But the last hour was torture... I really mean that. Every time I moved suddenly, new spikes of searing pain shot through my brain and neck. I was worried I would end up barfing on the counter in front of people.

One nap and lunch later and I think the worst is over. Yeah, my head is still pounding but after a while, you go ahead and do what you gotta do because it doesn't matter. Whether I lie down or sit up, read, write or watch a video, my head's going to feel the same, so I might as well do somethng pleasant. That's why I'm going to go dig up my old copies of Beavis and Butthead and watch them all.

This rant has been brought to you by the letter "F" and "u" and by the number "google"

Someone in Australia is doing research on the families of Autistic children. I thought it was a pretty good survey and it's kind of nice that for once a research actually gives a shit how family members are affected.

( So here is the essay part of the survey )

a dear friend has asked for my help in a delicate matter.

A young girl (15) unknown to either of us previously is pregnant. She says it is the result of a gang rape. Her mother is in the process of emancipating her but has told her in no uncertain terms that she will not help the young girl get an abortion. The young girl's boyfriend wants her to keep the baby so they can raise it together. The young girl does not want to have the baby at all.

1) We don't know for sure who's the father. Maybe she lied and the father is her boyfriend. Maybe she lied to her boyfriend and he thinks he's the father.
2) She knows absolutely that she doesn't want to have a baby.
3) Her mother is of no help or support at all.
4) she has no money. My friend and I are both effectively broke. If I "loan" her the money in a few weeks, I'll never see it again I'd figure.

*sigh*

I went to see her yesterday.

I had no idea what to expect. I walked into her room and no one was there. I was a little baffled, until I saw the big plush Eeyore sitting on a chair. "ah," I thought "whatever she's like, she's got Eeyore so things can't be too bad."

I turned around and nearly walked into her.

"oh. my. god." she said verrrrry slowly with a dazed look, "what are you doing here? are you here to see me?"

"hey Amy," I smiled, and held out my arms "yeah I'm here to see YOU"

She leaned into my arms still looking dazed and amazed.

I remember Amy being thin, wide-eyed and smiling. She was all those things, yet, something was different: Amy was scared.

I've never seen her look like that.

She wanted to talk about the accident, but her mother wouldn't let her. She wanted to talk about the ex-asshole, but there wasn't much to say, she wanted to talk about all her old "friends" but they were noticeably absent.

I think Amy wanted more than anything to have her old feeling back; the invinceability, the fool-hardiness, the take-no-prisoners intensity that she always lived with, but she knew it was gone forever.

I won't tell you that we talked like old friends, because we're not (Friends, that is) and I won't tell you that I was bright and cheery and gave her hope, because I wasn't and I didn't.

It was awkward and weird and a little scary for me too. How much could she remember? How much could I say? When I named names, did she know who they were or was she just going along? Was she in a drug-haze? How bad was her brain damaged? Is she going to be brought up on charges? Will the scars be removeable?
All those topics were hanging in the air between us, but because of her mother and the spectre of realization of mortality, we didn't touch on any of those subjects.

She's hurt; make no mistake. She's been damaged and she'll never be the same again. Because I knew this immediately, the whole visit was for HER.

I let her babble on about my ex-husband, I listened to her theories of the drama surrounding her culpability, I smiled and nodded and took in everything.

But this was Amy afraid. Something I've never seen in my life. It made me sad. Every cliched conversation we ever had between us was revisited and redone and it not the same no matter how hard she tried to sound like her old self.

There is a trembling in her voice, a nervous jitter in her eyes. There is a plaintive catch in her words and a desperate pull in her glances.
This is Amy terrified. This is Amy finally being hit with the full understanding of her own aloneness.

This was the first time I ever felt sad for her. Not because she was injured or even because she was abandoned, no I felt sadness for Amy because the one thing that made her beautiful when all else failed was her verve and zest for life. That's all gone now, replaced with a fearful clinging to her old memories of a life never examined and thus, worth nothing to her now.

What do you do when you wake up one day and discover that you never blazed a trail and everyone's left you behind to perish in the forest of life? You go back to what you remember best, that's what you do. Going backwards never works though.

I don't know what else to tell you. I remember why I love Amy, and that's only a ghost of who she is now. In that visit, I too realized something; Amy was always a shell of a person, and now that she's been cracked, she's only more afraid to break free.

What happens now?

Whatever she turns into, I can only admit I'll still be there when she needs to grasp at that old visage again. I'll still nod and smile and sneak her a cigarette, because what else can a person do?

I am a horrible bitch; I admit it and everyone knows it.

I cruise around LJ occasionally. I go through my friends' friends lists and try to widen my circle of input. Let me share with you my basic impressions:

1. When a great change occurs in someone's life, they tend to be amazed at how it affects them. This amazement can go on for over a year, until they completely forget the event that caused the amazement. LESSON: When life hands you a change, you will be affected, probably changed as well. Roll with the changes and learn what you can.

2. When a person meets someone new, they tend to invest the new relationship with a lot of expectations and beliefs. Later on, they either drift away from the person or get angry with them because the person turns out to be just another person who doesn't really know them all that well (yet). LESSON: When you first meet someone you "click with", attempt to find out who they really are before deciding they are your "soul mate" or "soul sister" or whatever.

3. When a person has a shitty day, they tend to tell the story so that its funny. LESSON: Humor can really relieve ones worries.

4. When a person feels insecure, they tend to ask for their online friends to speak up and say something nice to them. It becomes a sort of "back-patting" party. This seems to work especially well for the noticeably neurotic and terminally cute/sexy posters. This does not seem to work very well for the perennially grumpy or not-so-attractive. LESSON: Being good-looking and/or whiney gets you noticed and people jump to assuage your ego. Those of us not so lucky just have to make do with having strong self-esteem.

5. The friend's list is a form of power and subject to spiteful manuevers. LESSON: be clear about how you intend to use your friends list and no one can complain later. ADDENDUM: be sure to comment in everyone's LJ at least occasionally or you'll eventually get cut.

6. People who are insecure tend to post a lot about how many friends they've got, how many people want to fuck them, how much money they make, how important they are... ad nauseum. It's REALLY boring. LESSON: If you're that insecure, try therapy or working on your own self-image. Shouting about how popular you are on LJ isn't very convincing.


....eh, that's enough for now I guess.