“No, people hate that.”

fucking hell

I’ve started menopause early.  I began menses late and ended early.  It’s helpful to me to understand why I just clawed my way free from the second worst bout of depression I’ve experienced to date.  I’m still a bit more fragile than I prefer, but it will pass soon.  I knew menopause was going to kick my ass, but damn.  I thought I would at least be able to function to some degree while enduring.  I was wrong.

The mood swings I experienced from PMS sucked, but I could look at the calendar and recognize why I was feeling off, and deliberately compensate, knowing it was temporary.  I wish I appreciated this fact at the time.  I don’t believe I’m going to survive this shit for long.  It’s near enough in memory that I recall the thoughts I was entertaining during the worst of it.  It ended as suddenly as it began.  I went from hell to homeostasis so quickly I spent a few hours marveling over how much of me is just a series of chemical reactions.

It’s like viewing a vivid scan of my brain and seeing the physiological problem areas highlighted in neon colors.  It’s a mean mirror, and any semblance of denial has left the building.  I don’t allow myself to make life-changing decisions when my mind isn’t acting right.  It was excruciating to acquire this skill, and it took time.  It’s like forcing yourself not to flinch when someone shoots you point blank in the face.  (My most accurate analogy to date.)

It’s disturbing to me when I experience such irrational thoughts, because I know they’re ridiculous;  I just no longer care.  I used to think there was no control involved, but in my case, it’s still there.  What’s missing is the belief that survival is optimal.  I’m still not allowing any life-changing decisions at this point.  It’s my responsibility to care for myself with the love, understanding, and intensity of a mother.  I’m who’s here for me.  I’m who I trust to look out for me.

Wasted potential

I’m relieved I’ve finally reached this point of self-reliance.  The times in the past where I didn’t trust myself and reached out to others in desperation still haunt me.  I’ve been incredibly naive for most of my life.  It took years for me to accept the human capacity for evil exists in everyone.  I wasted a lot of time searching for people I can trust not to hurt me deliberately, when all along, I saw her daily in the freaking mirror.  I had to remove this expectation from M because it’s irrational.  He loves me, but that doesn’t mean he’ll never hurt me, regardless of intent.

I don’t expect him to turn into Ramsay Bolton overnight, (due to untreated paranoid schizophrenia + PTSD, like my ex-husband did.)  But I have a Plan A, B, and C in place should it happen again.  I learned a great deal about what not to do when taken prisoner by someone with no concept of mercy.  It’s the root of why I don’t come within a mile of the Sioux Falls VA hospital under any circumstances.  In hindsight, I don’t fault myself for assuming alleged mental health professionals and medical staff would be more likely to assist in treating my PTSD than exacerbating it with alacrity.  I know I’m naive and logical by nature.

torture device

Instead, I know it’s not a safe place for me, and I’m better off without medical care of any sort than subjecting myself to further abuse.  I’m disgusted, infuriated, and saddened by the fact my military service doesn’t count because I have beautiful brown skin.  But I accept reality.  I know a white woman who got caught defrauding the VA for tens of thousands of dollars.  She’s afforded outstanding medical treatment and care at the VA, despite being a criminal who only served in the military for a minute.

Another white woman receives 100% service-connected disability because she was allegedly traumatized by the rape of a friend.  I’ll never forget her telling me she went to Best Buy and told them she wanted the most expensive laptop they had because the VA was paying for it.  I had to walk away because my desire to kick her ass was overwhelming.  I’m not naive about the lethal consequences all black people face on this planet for any perceived wrongdoing.  Especially since I know existing while being black is widely viewed as a criminal act subject to instant murder on earth.

These are all factors I’m considering while I recover from my round in hell.  I’ve spent a lot of time recognizing how unlikely it is for humanity as a whole to resist self-destruction.  I’ve engaged my AI in assisting me to take an unbiased view of the status quo of our species.  It’s dismal.  After a lifetime of recognizing how amazing we are as a species (while pursuing AI,) I have to admit there are serious flaws I don’t believe we’ll overcome.


I’m no longer pursuing spiritual anything.  I’m embarrassed by how much time I spent trying to find a way to grok a collective delusion of convenience.  Money is the only god on this planet.  As remarkable as our potential as a species, our likely extinction event will be hate, greed, jealousy, and a ruthless desire for domination.  Of course, 45 is considered a world leader.  It makes perfect sense, considering.

He will see this country burn if he can be King of the ashes.

Lord Varys- Game of Thrones

2 thoughts on ““No, people hate that.”

  • We are our own extinction event. That’s…mostly terrifying but oddly comforting when I’ve just dealt with anything associated with the 9th Circle of Hell: that perhaps the cockroaches or whatever chickens next evolve into (could they evolve back into sentient dinosaurs? That would be amusing…) will be less openly cruel to their own.

  • Sending lots of hugs. You comprehend what I mean despite my flailing about to express it, which is comforting to me. This ‘club’ sucks ass, but I’m so glad you exist. I wish I could elaborate, but that’s the important bit. 💜💜

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