Monday, June 16, 2014
Ed Suominen’s Shitty Little Blog: Problems with Paul
Ed Suominen’s Shitty Little Blog: Problems with Paul: To see that one has been mistaken in one’s manner of apprehending the past is not a loss but a gain. It is always better, safer, and more p...
Thursday, April 10, 2014
With All Due Respect, Shut The Fuck Up
So, I've been silent for awhile. It's not that I haven't wanted to write, been inspired, or motivated to write, but more like I didn't have the desire, energy, or creativity to do so. Personally, I blame the medication. Despite my silence, however, I have thought about some things a good deal.
I am sick of hearing about Benghazi, Common Core, and the NSA. I am blazing rage insane over the gun control=Hitler memes that continue to propagate my Facebook feed. I am fucking pissed about Ukraine and am downright psychotic over the West's response. Way to go, because appeasement has worked so fucking well in the past (here would be an appropriate time for Hitler/Stalin comparisons). But enough on that, lest I go into a rant the likes of which has never been seen. No, there is something else I wish to comment upon.
Over the last few months, I have had difficulty dealing with my depression and anxiety. This has caused me to reflect heavily on how we, as a society, treat mental and chronic illness. Which is to say, pretty shittily. I have dealt with severe depression and anxiety for 16 years...half my life. For the past two years, I have been plagued with a movement disorder that may, or may not, be psychological (medical speak for 'we have no idea what the hell is wrong with you').
I have dealt with mental illness for a long time, so I have been fully aware of how it is viewed in society. Keep it hidden, don't let anyone know, and for God's sake don't TALK about it. Well, I am going to talk about it. I am going to talk about mental illness and I am going to talk about my new found perspective on disability and chronic illness in America. Quite frankly, our society sucks big time when it comes to these issues.
First of all, let's define what I mean when I say 'chronic illness.' By that I do not mean things like cancer. Few people are going to ride the guy going through chemo as to why he always feels sick and tired. That's because the answer is pretty freaking obvious. We can see what chemo does. We have all heard of the horrible side effects of this "treatment" (for brevity's sake, I will not expound upon my opinions to chemo...let the quotes speak for themselves). Cancer and chemo are things we understand. Tell someone you have cancer and it garners immediate sympathy. That attitude changes abruptly if you tell someone you have chronic pain, especially if there are no visible signs to the cause of your pain.
Cancel plans because of your pain and a litany of criticisms comes your way (and unsolicited advice). "You always hurt." "Stop being such a wimp." "Learn how to deal with it." "If all you do is lay around you will never get better." "Well, of course, it hurts to walk because you never DO anything. If you got up and out more it wouldn't hurt so much."
Yeah, I got news for you--it doesn't fucking work that way. Fibromyalgia, MD, MS, Ehlers-Danlos, RA and a host of others cause pain that you can't see the cause of. Want to know what constant pain is like? Ever pulled a muscle, got cut, broke a bone, threw out your back? Take that pain, of the fresh injury, not the healing one, and imagine having that 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. NOTHING helps. Trust me, that kind of pain for a couple years straight and it tends to wear on you. It is not like we don't want to move when we are in pain, but the pain level is so freaking high TODAY that we can't even think about it. But, way to go making us feel guilty about shit we can't do anything about. That's sure to help with the depression that often comes with chronic pain.
We are not weak, wimps or pussies because what you don't see is that everything we do is done IN PAIN. Taking a shower, getting the mail, making supper, laundry, dishes...fucking putting on socks and shoes causes pain. Writing this piece, right now, is causing pain to shoot across my thumb and up my wrist. Fire, is shooting up my spine and has been for the last 5 days straight. A thousand needles have been pricking my arms, all day long. But hey, my legs don't hurt today, so I feel up to going shopping with my mom.
And we are always, always, in pain. Even when we sleep; if we can sleep, because sleep is an elusive bitch to those in chronic pain. You know when I don't hurt, when I sleep the blessed sleep of the heavily sedated. We don't cancel plans simply because we hurt. We cancel because the mere thought of eating food, causes more pain than we can handle. But thank you for being selfish enough to have the gall to complain about MY pain. You're awesome.
Oh, and here's the other thing. It doesn't fucking get better. It never goes away and nothing, nothing we do is going to change that. EVER. There is no cure. Yes, there are meds, but they don't take away the pain...they only help to manage it. That's why its called pain management, because it brings the pain down to a level you can handle. But it's always there, the nagging little bitch that keeps eating away at your soul slowly driving you insane.
People in chronic pain HATE the stupid pain scale. Rate the level of your pain...well, compared to what? A broken bone, a migraine, labor...because right now I would give my left arm for the ability to have an in-home epidural. Not being able to feel anything for a few hours would be better than a week's vacation. On a beach. In the Caribbean. Without the kids. Some people dream of far off places and achieving greatness...I dream of epidurals. Dear God, yes, please take away all feeling below my waist. But this is not the worst pain. Meh, it's probably a 6...using that stupid, arbitrary scale of smiley faces. No, the worst pain is when it hits 11. And chronic pain sufferers find out, all too often, that even an 11 can shift. We seem to find new 'limits' as to how much pain a body can handle. This is not when we dream of epidurals and 'the good drugs,' but instead, pray for oblivion. Pain so great, the thought of not existing is better than having to live through this pain. One. Second. More. But we survive, and our 'pain scale' shifts.
So, why do we not rush out of the house on the good days and bounce around all happy and shit? Because we are fucking tired of fighting our own bodies. Every. Single. Day. Tell you what, take a knife, stick it in your spine and leave it there for two years, and then tell me how fucking 'peppy' you are. Hell, I see people who have dealt with this shit for 5, 10, 15 years and I'm impressed they get out of bed at all. I'm only two years in and don't think I can take much more without going legitimately insane.
Which makes a nice segue to my next point. The next fucking person to tell me, "It's all in your head," is going to get stabbed in the fucking eye. Seriously, fuck you. Do not shame me for something that is beyond my control. Do not put this on me and make it 'my fault.' I don't want this, no one wants this. If positive thinking was all it took then cancer would be cured and we would all be shitting out rainbows while riding flying unicorns. But, seriously, thanks for giving me blame and guilt and making me think that this is all my fault, if I were just a better person... Fuck. You.
I didn't choose this, no one chooses this. "What have you got to be depressed about?" Well, nothing really, gee thanks for pointing that out, I guess I'll just be happy. Yeah, that doesn't work and you're not helping. Again, thanks for invalidating my feelings you insensitive prick. Just because YOU don't see any outward reasons for my depression doesn't mean I can't fucking be depressed. It's not like I can control this shit.
See, there are these things called neurotransmitters (NT). And in some people, they don't work right. A person with Parkinson's(PD), for example, have issues with the NT dopamine. Their bodies, for whatever reason, cannot control their own dopamine levels, thus leading to the symptoms of PD. No one tells them, "It's all in your head." But have issues regulating serotonin and norepinephrine and people suddenly believe that you are, purposefully, causing your own symptoms.
I am fucking ridiculously optimistic. I believe that I will actually get better (most around me don't). I believe humans are inherently good and that a single person can change the world. I believe that, as bad as some days are, it could always be worse. Oh, and guess what... I am happy. Get that, I am fucking happy, but I am still depressed. Yes, that can happen.
I have panic attacks. I get worked up over the dumbest, fucking things sometimes. I know it's stupid, illogical, and irrational. None of that serves to change the fact that it happens. Is it logical, or rational, for me to freak the fuck out because I see a mouse, or because too many people showed up to church, or a family event. Hell, no. And we know that. And knowing that doesn't help...in fact, sometimes it makes it worse.
But, how can it make it worse? Because I know it is irrational, I fight it. I don't want my brain and body to react the way it does. I fight. I rationalize, and guess what... I FAIL. And it happens anyway. Often times, making it worse than if I just removed myself from the situation and dealt with it. So, now I get to add "failure" to my list as well. Awesome, that helps. And the sheer exhaustion that comes with fighting the two sides of your mind cannot be adequately described.
In short, if you have never, personally, dealt with these or similar conditions, please refrain from giving advice on shit you know nothing about. Refrain from judging people for things you can't begin to understand (this is good advice in any context). You just come off as an asshole. Do Not call a disabled person lazy, because they exude more energy and burn more calories pulling themselves out of bed then you can possibly begin to fucking imagine. So the next time, you find yourself wanting to wax philosophical about mental health and chronic illness--how you think we should deal with it--do us all a favor and promptly, fuck off.
I am sick of hearing about Benghazi, Common Core, and the NSA. I am blazing rage insane over the gun control=Hitler memes that continue to propagate my Facebook feed. I am fucking pissed about Ukraine and am downright psychotic over the West's response. Way to go, because appeasement has worked so fucking well in the past (here would be an appropriate time for Hitler/Stalin comparisons). But enough on that, lest I go into a rant the likes of which has never been seen. No, there is something else I wish to comment upon.
Over the last few months, I have had difficulty dealing with my depression and anxiety. This has caused me to reflect heavily on how we, as a society, treat mental and chronic illness. Which is to say, pretty shittily. I have dealt with severe depression and anxiety for 16 years...half my life. For the past two years, I have been plagued with a movement disorder that may, or may not, be psychological (medical speak for 'we have no idea what the hell is wrong with you').
I have dealt with mental illness for a long time, so I have been fully aware of how it is viewed in society. Keep it hidden, don't let anyone know, and for God's sake don't TALK about it. Well, I am going to talk about it. I am going to talk about mental illness and I am going to talk about my new found perspective on disability and chronic illness in America. Quite frankly, our society sucks big time when it comes to these issues.
First of all, let's define what I mean when I say 'chronic illness.' By that I do not mean things like cancer. Few people are going to ride the guy going through chemo as to why he always feels sick and tired. That's because the answer is pretty freaking obvious. We can see what chemo does. We have all heard of the horrible side effects of this "treatment" (for brevity's sake, I will not expound upon my opinions to chemo...let the quotes speak for themselves). Cancer and chemo are things we understand. Tell someone you have cancer and it garners immediate sympathy. That attitude changes abruptly if you tell someone you have chronic pain, especially if there are no visible signs to the cause of your pain.
Cancel plans because of your pain and a litany of criticisms comes your way (and unsolicited advice). "You always hurt." "Stop being such a wimp." "Learn how to deal with it." "If all you do is lay around you will never get better." "Well, of course, it hurts to walk because you never DO anything. If you got up and out more it wouldn't hurt so much."
Yeah, I got news for you--it doesn't fucking work that way. Fibromyalgia, MD, MS, Ehlers-Danlos, RA and a host of others cause pain that you can't see the cause of. Want to know what constant pain is like? Ever pulled a muscle, got cut, broke a bone, threw out your back? Take that pain, of the fresh injury, not the healing one, and imagine having that 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. NOTHING helps. Trust me, that kind of pain for a couple years straight and it tends to wear on you. It is not like we don't want to move when we are in pain, but the pain level is so freaking high TODAY that we can't even think about it. But, way to go making us feel guilty about shit we can't do anything about. That's sure to help with the depression that often comes with chronic pain.
We are not weak, wimps or pussies because what you don't see is that everything we do is done IN PAIN. Taking a shower, getting the mail, making supper, laundry, dishes...fucking putting on socks and shoes causes pain. Writing this piece, right now, is causing pain to shoot across my thumb and up my wrist. Fire, is shooting up my spine and has been for the last 5 days straight. A thousand needles have been pricking my arms, all day long. But hey, my legs don't hurt today, so I feel up to going shopping with my mom.
And we are always, always, in pain. Even when we sleep; if we can sleep, because sleep is an elusive bitch to those in chronic pain. You know when I don't hurt, when I sleep the blessed sleep of the heavily sedated. We don't cancel plans simply because we hurt. We cancel because the mere thought of eating food, causes more pain than we can handle. But thank you for being selfish enough to have the gall to complain about MY pain. You're awesome.
Oh, and here's the other thing. It doesn't fucking get better. It never goes away and nothing, nothing we do is going to change that. EVER. There is no cure. Yes, there are meds, but they don't take away the pain...they only help to manage it. That's why its called pain management, because it brings the pain down to a level you can handle. But it's always there, the nagging little bitch that keeps eating away at your soul slowly driving you insane.
People in chronic pain HATE the stupid pain scale. Rate the level of your pain...well, compared to what? A broken bone, a migraine, labor...because right now I would give my left arm for the ability to have an in-home epidural. Not being able to feel anything for a few hours would be better than a week's vacation. On a beach. In the Caribbean. Without the kids. Some people dream of far off places and achieving greatness...I dream of epidurals. Dear God, yes, please take away all feeling below my waist. But this is not the worst pain. Meh, it's probably a 6...using that stupid, arbitrary scale of smiley faces. No, the worst pain is when it hits 11. And chronic pain sufferers find out, all too often, that even an 11 can shift. We seem to find new 'limits' as to how much pain a body can handle. This is not when we dream of epidurals and 'the good drugs,' but instead, pray for oblivion. Pain so great, the thought of not existing is better than having to live through this pain. One. Second. More. But we survive, and our 'pain scale' shifts.
So, why do we not rush out of the house on the good days and bounce around all happy and shit? Because we are fucking tired of fighting our own bodies. Every. Single. Day. Tell you what, take a knife, stick it in your spine and leave it there for two years, and then tell me how fucking 'peppy' you are. Hell, I see people who have dealt with this shit for 5, 10, 15 years and I'm impressed they get out of bed at all. I'm only two years in and don't think I can take much more without going legitimately insane.
Which makes a nice segue to my next point. The next fucking person to tell me, "It's all in your head," is going to get stabbed in the fucking eye. Seriously, fuck you. Do not shame me for something that is beyond my control. Do not put this on me and make it 'my fault.' I don't want this, no one wants this. If positive thinking was all it took then cancer would be cured and we would all be shitting out rainbows while riding flying unicorns. But, seriously, thanks for giving me blame and guilt and making me think that this is all my fault, if I were just a better person... Fuck. You.
I didn't choose this, no one chooses this. "What have you got to be depressed about?" Well, nothing really, gee thanks for pointing that out, I guess I'll just be happy. Yeah, that doesn't work and you're not helping. Again, thanks for invalidating my feelings you insensitive prick. Just because YOU don't see any outward reasons for my depression doesn't mean I can't fucking be depressed. It's not like I can control this shit.
See, there are these things called neurotransmitters (NT). And in some people, they don't work right. A person with Parkinson's(PD), for example, have issues with the NT dopamine. Their bodies, for whatever reason, cannot control their own dopamine levels, thus leading to the symptoms of PD. No one tells them, "It's all in your head." But have issues regulating serotonin and norepinephrine and people suddenly believe that you are, purposefully, causing your own symptoms.
I am fucking ridiculously optimistic. I believe that I will actually get better (most around me don't). I believe humans are inherently good and that a single person can change the world. I believe that, as bad as some days are, it could always be worse. Oh, and guess what... I am happy. Get that, I am fucking happy, but I am still depressed. Yes, that can happen.
I have panic attacks. I get worked up over the dumbest, fucking things sometimes. I know it's stupid, illogical, and irrational. None of that serves to change the fact that it happens. Is it logical, or rational, for me to freak the fuck out because I see a mouse, or because too many people showed up to church, or a family event. Hell, no. And we know that. And knowing that doesn't help...in fact, sometimes it makes it worse.
But, how can it make it worse? Because I know it is irrational, I fight it. I don't want my brain and body to react the way it does. I fight. I rationalize, and guess what... I FAIL. And it happens anyway. Often times, making it worse than if I just removed myself from the situation and dealt with it. So, now I get to add "failure" to my list as well. Awesome, that helps. And the sheer exhaustion that comes with fighting the two sides of your mind cannot be adequately described.
In short, if you have never, personally, dealt with these or similar conditions, please refrain from giving advice on shit you know nothing about. Refrain from judging people for things you can't begin to understand (this is good advice in any context). You just come off as an asshole. Do Not call a disabled person lazy, because they exude more energy and burn more calories pulling themselves out of bed then you can possibly begin to fucking imagine. So the next time, you find yourself wanting to wax philosophical about mental health and chronic illness--how you think we should deal with it--do us all a favor and promptly, fuck off.
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