Fuck The Status Quo

If you are reading this in hopes of something profound and lighthearted, please move along. Nothing of that ilk to see her.

The shark week hormones are swirling like a tornado funnel cloud and it is not pretty. Not for me, not for anyone who has done the tiniest thing to irk me, fail me, dismiss me. If there is ANY slight you have committed against me, the hormones are swirling, kicking up the dust, and arming with so much anger and resentment that avoiding me is a good idea. I have been trying to isolate myself because my mood is vile and I am in crampy pain from hell and OF COURSE this is when everyone decides to come by and visit. To my credit I haven’t taken anyone’s head off. Also, I have shown as much enthusiasm for socializing as one might display for a lobotomy with an ice pick. NOT a good time. I try to keep it in check but if hormones were that easily controlled the world would be a significantly different place. This shit is like being drunk and on drugs all at once.

My net was down for 2 days so at least I didn’t offend anyone on line or post anything too vicious.

Which leads me to the title.

I’ve done soo much introspection and soul searching I could puke. The fact is, I have mental illnesses. You don’t snap out of them, you don’t “behave” your way out of them. You deal best you can by taking the meds and struggling to survive.

The “therapy” solution everyone touts as gospel…I’ve come to the conclusion that at a certain point, it does not work or even help. What therapy has done for me more than anything is make me aware of all these labels of disorders for my personality thus giving me a dozen other things to feel inferior for and resentful about. Seriously. No one seems to want to THINK about, and hey, maybe this is exclusive to my local center but…You can’t walk in and say “I’m struggling with some things, I’d like to talk to someone.”

Oh, they will give you someone to talk to. AFTER “intake sessions”. This is where they spend maybe an hour total asking routine questions from their little counselor book THEN they’ve earned to distinction of knowing you well enough to label you with this disorder and that disorder, sticking it in your file for good. Your mental illness is not a factor. You were raped in an alley once by a biker gang and now you fear dark alleys and are paranoid of men in biker jackets? PARANOID DISORDER. Therefore it’s all your fault for not getting over it and allowing it to affect your life.

BULLSHIT.

If I could go in and talk to someone without this labeling thing being a necessity…I’d be okay with therapy. But this shit, combined with this new regime that even asks to know if you’re sexually active, as if that has any bearing on your financial stress or difficult with single parenting…I find this intrusive, offensive and frankly, asinine.

The bottom line for me is… I have NEVER fit in the neat little box society dictated, not even as a small child. I’ll be damned if you will convince me I had a personality disorder when I was six and preferred playing with cats to dressing up as a princess. Some people…are different. Society favors words like “eccentric” and “weird.”

I like the term unconventional. Just because I am not on board with what society dictates as a norm doesn’t mean my way is a disorder. The road less traveled is just that. I have a slew of unconventional beliefs that will be labeled disorders and some sort of psychological scar and still… my conviction is iron.

I do not kill people. I don’t torture small animals. I do not steal. I do not get jollies hurting others physically or emotionally. I loathe drama. I don’t desire to be the center of attention. I don’t feel the need to convert others to my way of thinking.

I am not the fucked up mess their personality disorder labels have made me feel I am. My entire misery begins and ends with trying to be something I am not. THAT is the disorder, THAT is what causes all of my unhappiness.

Mind you, it does not negate my own awareness or need to take responsibility for my flaws that contribute to my problems. The biggest step I can take for this is to stop trying to be something I am not. For an anti conformist I seem to spend a lot of time trying to conform and fit into that box societal norms create. That’s my failure. And it needs to stop.

And while this no doubt earns me a brand new personality disorder label, I’m pretty convinced now that I am seeing the true problem in my behavior. There is nothing fatally wrong with me.

I’m just a little feral and surrounded by people who want to own a domesticated pet.

Fuck the status quo. Their way didn’t work for me in spite of me being told a thousand times is MUST be done that way.

If I can ever get out of this vile mind frame and think clearly…Maybe it’s time to start thinking about what I want, what will work for me.

If that fails..fuck it, I’m taking up voodoo.

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One Response to “Fuck The Status Quo”

  1. Something that has helped me find direction and protection is W.R.A.P. developed by Mary Ellen Copeland when she was on welfare with no where to turn. Google it. Wellness Recovery Action Plan. I have one, and I’m a certified facilitator of it. You organize all your wellness tools that work for you, figure which ones you have to do daily, look at your triggers and figure out action plans so they don’t make you feel so bad, examine how things look when they are breaking down and make action plans for that so things get better not worse, and also you create a crisis plan just in case, where you name everything that will happen, who will help,who will not, how long, where, when, etc… if you ever get hospitalized. Anyways it’s a lot of work but it is another tool I use to keep well. The best thing about it is it’s mine, what I say makes me well, not what others have told me, or I’ve read in a book. No they are my wellness tools, tried and true, and nobody can tell me they are wrong. If one of them is to have a beer say (although I don’t drink so that’s not one for me) when something triggersbecause it helps me not be reactive then that’s what works for me and that’s what I put in my W.R.A.P.

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