C25K almost killed me yesterday. It was suddenly hard like it was before I could do day 1, again. I'm not sure why W2D2 was so unexpectedly vicious, though I was going a little faster than normal and my stomach felt slightly off.
Grant's doing it with me! Which neither of us expected. It's cool, though.
It's 9/11 today, so my whole facebook wall is awash in semi-transparent eagles superimposed over skyscrapers. There are really awful shots of wreckage, and inspiring shots of search and rescue dogs being flown in via helicopter-towed-scaffolding, and paragraphs from super sincere people that I love - all entreating me to "never forget." It reminds me of how devastated Aaron was to learn about the whole tragedy for the first time, a couple of years ago. Profile pics have been changed to memorial spaces. The ads on my sidebar are for various patriotic charities.
In the midst of all that, an old friend of mine posted a set of plush towers with stuffed planes sticking out of them, and anthropomorphic felt tongues sticking out, and Xs over their eyes. He said LOOK HOW ADORABLE THEY ARE.
I laughed. With relief. Awhile later, after I read the casualty statistics again, and then the "I lived in NYC that day" first person horror story, and then told Ananda about how scary that day was for us personally (because she's on facebook now, so she asked), the same friend posted a link to "Why I'm really sad today." Apparently, a Nickelback album came out on 9/11/01.
This is helpful! I don't want to be held hostage to the obligatory misery of 9/11 every year. I don't want any part of it. I went doing some research, you know, and almost 3,000 people died that day, and that really fucking sucks. But then a few years later in New Orleans, almost 2,000 people died in Hurricane Katrina. And then much more recently, somewhere between 19,000 and 25,000 people died in Japan
, in a series of disasters that is STILL SPEWING RADIATION EVERYWHERE. Right now, in Syria, God Knows What is happening to children on playgrounds, just like it has every day for the last however many months. There's a lot of REALLY BAD SHIT out there, a whole lot. Most of it isn't here, so we like to pretend it's not as important as the things that happen here are, just. *sigh*
If I had died that day, it would make me happy to know my kids managed to laugh at jokes about the event that caught them off guard, after being bombarded for twelve years.
I was thinking about the whole concept of laughing about things you are Not Supposed To Laugh At, and the old "Healing Through Tragicrafting" Regretsy posts that used to happen every year on this day. Then Pandora busted out with Amanda Palmer's song, "Oasis."
If you don't know, "Oasis" is about a girl who gets date raped, ends up having an abortion that is heavily picketed by Christian protesters, and has her friends turn on her as though she's a whore after someone gossips about the whole thing. The song character is a teenager and the silver lining that allows her to be happy in spite of it all is that she's writing to her favorite band (Oasis, hence title), they actually write back, and she's got tickets to see them play live.
The clincher is that the whole song is set to a Beach Boys type melody - it's a poppy, happy, upbeat tune, with a goofy, intentionally parody-style video.
It really pisses a lot of people off. Other people just roll their eyes and talk about Amanda Palmer trying to shock people for attention.
But Amanda Palmer talks about how old it gets, being miserable about having these things happen to you. How terrible it feels to always have to talk about these topics as very heavy, very hard things, when they're your life. She's been date raped, she's had an abortion, blah blah blah. She's definitely been the writing-back "band" that made victimized young people happy, too. I imagine that as a performer who gets interviewed all the time, and talks to fans a lot, heavy issues get especially repetitive and heavy. My inference is, how freeing and awesome is it to throw that weight off?!
Positive YouTube commenters on the video have opinions like: Its how she has chosen to belittle her own attacker and show how although her rape was horrible she didn't let it ruin her whole life.
and shes not joking about rape :) shes showing how normal people think it is through a happy song and silly video
Anyway. I did some recon and am gonna embed some junk here now. Original video:
Here's her live on stage, talking about it, and then playing the song slowly like it's sad, as well as the normal way. She says some really great stuff at the beginning. Like, "when you cease to have a sense of humor about the darkness in life, that's when the darkness takes over..." and more.
I'm starting to crack up again, feelin all...mentally ill.
What I mean is the kids seem more irritating, and things I have to do seem more undoable, and I'm just wasting huge amounts of time in semi-sadness. There is this slow cascade of factors that has contributed -
1.) A surgeon contacted me online, not as a surgeon, but as a person who is also interested in neuroplasticity - but then he found out I have a hernia, and wanted details, and I saw pictures of him in scrubs, and the whole thing just got a little, uh, icky? For lack of better phrasing? It wasn't a huge deal, EXCEPT...
2.) That it happened the same day (last Friday) that our well-meaning dentist did what everyone does when they learn a little about our family medical history...she launched into OR horror stories as the two of us stood across the hall from where Annie and Isaac were being handled by oral hygienists. I haven't really developed the ability to put my finger to another person's lips and say, "Stop right there. You are about to fuck me up for days, so just hush." Instead, I now know about the hospital wing that was closed down after a woman who was there to donate a kidney to her brother got the wrong artery nicked, bled out, died on the table, and then her brother got very bad news and died, without kidneys (since hers were ruined). It's hard for me to even focus on that shit long enough to type the words out. I just start dissociating like a motherfucker. But I really think this is worse when I don't directly deal. It's like I give triggers power by avoiding them at all costs and sometimes I just have to try to plow through, stiff and weird as it might make me...
I spent the weekend far too tense, trying to not be aware of the lumps on my abdomen that start to feel very "ticking time bomb." Then, I had a couple of the recurring nightmares it had been a long time since I'd seen around, and subsequently spent way too many hours lying awake in bed. I did a third of the homework I should have and spazzed on Grant Sunday night (meaning, lost all interest in sex after stellar foreplay and suddenly just wanted to go to sleep).
Barf. I hate this shit.
I go back to counseling Monday. It's been a few weeks, because of some scheduling issues. I have a standing appointment at the same time every week, now.
I'm also trying to reach out to people, because I've definitely been isolated, and that definitely makes me vulnerable to PTSD, as stated 700 million times...Gloria was here all afternoon and evening Monday, I hemmed 5 pairs of her pants and fed her dinner and plied her with wine :) Been facebookin' people, and textin/callin people... My sister is unavailable because her kids are sick with some terrible thing I don't want making it's way over here.
My editor messaged me yesterday - there is some YouTube channel devoted to authors reading their own erotic stories every week, that is switching to horror for Halloween, and Editor thinks my horror story - Which is in this little 2.99 e-trilogy of horror my publisher put out last year
- would be perfect. So I may be reading it and being featured on her site and linking that here, which is cool :) I'm proud of that story, because it's the first time I've written something in a formulaic way meant to elicit a particular reader response (aside from essays being meant to elicit As). And it works. It does what it's supposed to do - creeps people the fuck out :)