Saturday, August 30, 2014

The three biggest lies about love we need to stop spreading and believing

Everyone and their mom has a theory about what love looks like and how one should go about acquiring it. Especially their mom, because "you're not getting any younger and what about that nice boy at the farmer's market? I could totally set you up." Unfortunately, the majority of what passes for "wisdom" on love strikes me as irresponsible, incredibly harmful and counterproductive. You'll probably recognize these because most of us have heard them (or maybe helped spread them around) at some point in our lives. I've had wave after wave of the following useless rhetoric crash over me in the wake of every breakup or extended stint of singleness I've ever had. But breaking down what these suggestions are really saying reveals they simply do not hold up and actually prolong people's suffering instead of ending it. Following this advice has never brought me anywhere I wanted to be. Doing the exact opposite of these recommendations and throwing out everything I'd been told about romantic endeavors was the only thing that actually helped me.

Also, because misinterpreting my writing as a series of misandrist manifestos appears to be some people's favorite pastimes, let me clarify that this is not an anti-dating, anti-men, or anti-love post in any way, shape, or form. The only thing I'm actually railing against is the kind of needless pain that these widely accepted yet wholly misguided dating practices encourage. If healthy, fulfilling, and lasting love is possible, it won't be found by adhering to any of these hippy-dippy principles.

1. Love hurts. Love is a struggle. Love is endless pain, fighting, and sacrifice, and if you give up or walk away when the going gets rough, you're just a quitter and that's why you don't have someone.


For many people, love (and for many of those, parenting) is the primary focus, goal, and sign of success in life. However, a disturbing amount of those people treat both love and parenting as opportunities to go through life as a martyr. I'm sure we all know that person who talks about their significant other or their children with phrases like this:

"Look at how much I've given up for you."
"The more I suffer, the more it shows I really care."
"It's whatever they want that matters. It's not all about ME."
"I'll take them back no matter how much they make me cry, because that's what love is."
"Everybody breaks up and makes up. If they keep coming back it means they truly love me."

See that? See how they try to make martyrdom and endless (deliberate and chosen) sacrifice actually sound preferable to having relationships that are just stable, happy and mutually fulfilling? Or project their own crappy experience onto the universe and pretend that's what everyone does (as if that makes it OK)? Why would anyone do such a thing or continue accepting that kind of misery in their lives?

Several reasons, more than likely. It makes them feel important and wanted, because they believe that bad attention is better than no attention. They think it makes them look noble and long-suffering, like champions of forgiveness. They might be a narcissist and get off on making people feel guilty by showcasing how much they've gone through or given up for that person. Maybe they've invested many years with this individual and feel like it's too late to back out now (sunk cost fallacy gets its hooks in everyone at some point). Or they mistakenly believe that constant, long-term acceptance of pain and mistreatment is what loyalty looks like. And they've bought into the lie that their own single precious life is about everyone else on the planet except them.

I'm not going to assert that every close relationship should be free of disagreements or occasional issues. Even the most compatible couple in the world won't see eye to eye on 100% of situations all the time. But I will absolutely, unequivocally posit that this ridiculous notion that love is an endless parade of pain and melodrama is exactly why people return to and remain in abusive, lackluster, and miserable relationships longer than they should (which, ideally, is not at all). People come forward suffering and hurting, and here's Facebook ready with a giant stamp of approval. "Good work. If it hurts, you're exactly where you should be. After all, love is pain and sacrifice. OBEY MY DOG!"

I also refuse to accept that any relationship is worth crying over. "That's totally unrealistic!" Maybe with that attitude. Believe what you will, but tolerating horrible treatment from men who made me cry and were careless with my feelings didn't do me any favors. It didn't demonstrate my commitment or make them want to treat me better; it only let them know they could take me for granted and I'd just sit there and take it. I have nothing to show for it but anger and regret. My life only started getting better the moment I decided I would not waste another second of my time with any man who tries to normalize or justify the pain they inflicted.

People who are hurting shouldn't be shamed for making their health and happiness a priority and walking away from someone who constantly hurts them, nor do they need to be applauded for going back to the same jerkass who made them feel like garbage and dumped them a couple weeks ago. Facebook has a tendency to award +500 likes and a million congrats to every relationship merger, and respond with wailing and gnashing of teeth whenever one is torn asunder, no matter what the circumstances. Pay attention to what's really happening and don't blindly support or decry either of these events unless it's truly in that person's best interest and they're not just jumping back on the bullshit carousel. As Trent Shelton says, "Love doesn't hurt. It heals."

"But she was drunk!" "But he's changed!" Nah, not buying it. It doesn't matter if "they didn't do it on purpose". It doesn't matter if "they're the best I've ever had". That's not good enough. The bottom line is that they allowed you to be extremely hurt, and if you're still being hurt on a regular basis, that person does not know how to love you (and if it were me they'd be gone the first time because I have a zero tolerance policy on this shit anymore).

They may say those words and they may even genuinely mean them. But they don't know what it means to treat someone with respect and guard their feelings. Love doesn't hit you, ignore your feelings, yell at you, deceive you, cheat on you, manipulate you into doing things you don't want to do, take you for granted, and it sure as hell does not break up with you for being who you are and always were. People who love you should hurt you the least, not the most. Otherwise, what's the point? Do you really believe you were put on this planet to spend your life miserable so someone else can be happy? And if they're so happy, why are they still making you feel terrible all the time? Saying "love is pain" is just a cover-up lie we delude ourselves with to make a lousy relationship easier to cope with.

Lana Del Rey cops to receiving this backwards advice herself, and has a sound response for readers in this interview with Complex. Love is supposed to improve your life and make it more enjoyable. It's not supposed to feel like work, or worse yet, some deranged war of attrition where the goal is to be the biggest loser who's sacrificed the most, hurt the most, overlooked the most. Sure, a lot of people live their life that way. I can only assume they've never known any better and honestly believe this is just how relationships work. And some people will go their entire lives never meeting someone who knows how to treat them with respect, truthfulness and dignity. That doesn't mean it's better than nothing. Which leads me to the next BS bullet point that won't die...

2. Settling for something is better than dying alone.

This is a real book. Do you feel inspired yet?

I almost can't believe that people really recommend this, but they apparently write entire self-help books advocating that people stop holding out for what they really want, and it's not like I haven't been on the receiving end of this utterly deflating poop nugget of wisdom myself.

I say deflating because when people said "stop being so picky", all I heard is "you're not as great as you think you are and you can't attract your actual ideal man." Well then. With this vote of confidence I will boldly march forth into the dating world, apologize for being so terribly insufficient, and fawn over the pathetic scraps thrown my way since it's all I deserve.

But some people really are too picky, I hear you protesting in italicized print. Well, of course they are. Not denying that. There are endless hordes of people who have no realistic concept whatsoever of what they bring to the table and what they could reasonably expect of a mate that wasn't ordered from a love pillow or RealDoll catalog. See: Nice Guys®, delusional optimists, and this classic neckbeard staple of the internet:

Now, let it be known that I spent the vast majority of my life with extremely low self-esteem. I thought I was physically unattractive and too much of a quirky eccentric to attract much of anyone because that's what I was told by the opposite sex; as such I thought I should be grateful for just about any attention I got. In the past few years I've made significant progress in improving the way I see myself by making positive steps to change the things that made me insecure, and be proud of the quirks that define who I am. Because of taking those steps, I can look in the mirror and finally say that I am truly happy with who I am, not the fake-happy I told myself I was when someone would take a shot at my looks or my lifestyle (when really I let it get to me and made me feel excluded and unwanted).

HAVING SAID THAT. Not once did I ever say, "I demand a millionaire supermodel astrophysicist and nothing less will do," which is definitely over-reaching. Not once did I even suggest, "I want someone who'll pay for everything all the time so I never have to work again," which some women actually pursue without a hint of irony. All I ever dared to request was that I wanted someone who was my equal. I felt it was entirely fair and within reason to only ask for things that I myself could bring to the table: sense of humor, financial solvency, and other qualities that others have recognized in me so I'm relatively sure they're not a figment of my imagination. Yet time and time again I was woefully informed that this was just way too much to ask. They would occasionally try to temper this revelation by saying that the problem was just that I'm clearly so awesome that there was just no one out there who could get on my level and actually meet my expectations. But the intended takeaway was the same: lower your standards or die alone, sweetheart. Up to you.

It is not productive to tell someone to settle for less than they're worth. It is not helpful or encouraging to say "You're SO fantastic. You're the absolute best. That's why I think you should end up with some schlub who isn't what you had in mind at all." By definition, you cannot be passionate about anything you settled for. You cannot feel genuinely fulfilled by it. Yeah, it might satisfy some temporary emotional or physical need, act as a stopgap relationship to fend off your nosy relatives, and give you a warm body to binge watch Orange Is The New Black with on Netflix. But every second you waste with someone you know you're settling for is a second you aren't spending being available and open to someone who actually possesses the qualities you'd go crazy for if you ever gave yourself a chance to find them.

And before anyone accuses me of thinking I'm above settling, I'm not. It's what I did my entire life from 1982-2013. That's a lot of goddamn settling. And the reason my life played out like a giant game of Settlers of Catan was that other people, or myself, kept telling me I wasn't good enough. And I believed it. You're too ugly, too skinny, too nerdy, too opinionated, too intimidating, too feminist, too prudish, too nontraditional, too whatever-the-fuck. Why would I believe I was worthy of passionate and meaningful love, or believe that it was even possible, with all that noise coming at me at the speed of bullshit? Talk about setting someone up to fail.

If someone wants a great relationship, can't find one, and you genuinely think they're a wonderful person deserving of love who has plenty to offer, just say that. Stop there. Don't tell them they're being picky by expecting someone exactly as great as they are. Don't add credence to this deranged cult of settling, motivated by some paranoid fear of loneliness or not passing on one's genes. There are fates much worse than dying alone. Like explaining to your kids one day that you ended up with their father because you read a book called "Settling For Mr. Good Enough".


3. You have to keep looking, put yourself out there, and never give up on finding someone.

Fun fact I'm gonna let you in on. You don't have to do anything. You can give up on whatever you want, for as long or as short as you want. Lord knows I did! And it was spectacular!

In the middle of last year, I decided I was done trying to date anymore. All dating profiles were taken down. Any man who requested my number or asked to take me out was flatly rejected. When my friends asked to set me up with their friends, they were met with a resounding "no thanks". Then when my friends said I can't give up on trying to find someone, I was puzzled and rather bemused, as I clearly had already done that. This was not a pending decision. Are you suggesting I'm a Timelord?

And this is the part where you might think I'm going to try to pawn off that other sad chestnut: "IT HAPPENS WHEN YOU STOP LOOKING." I'm not going to patronize anyone with that crap. Maybe it will. Usually it doesn't. Fact is, there are simply no guarantees in life and they're just saying that to get your hopes up, because spreading false hope is a thing some people think needs to happen. People said that to me when I became single at age 23, and that was followed by a seven year single streak. Seven YEARS. I stopped looking for a dog's age and absolutely nothing of lasting romantic import happened at all. Staying single even after you stop looking is a definite possibility and there's nothing wrong with that.

The cool thing for me was this time around when I stopped trying, something better than I've ever known came to me anyway. So everyone who told me I could never give up on dating or that I needed to go out of my way to try to find someone was wrong. And I'm glad it happened that way. I always hated singles mixers and set-up dates anyway. It all felt so contrived. Everyone knew the pretense and there was nothing happenstance or organic about it, really. "What brings you here?" "Oh, just wondering if you're someone I'd like to have relations with. And you?" "The same! Imagine that."

What I did by refusing to participate in the shitty dating world I've grown so wearily familiar with was doing what was right for me. I didn't want to wake up every morning to another slew of misspelled love (or hate) letters from trolls and illiterates on OKCupid. I didn't want to feel like it was my duty to go out every night and advertise myself to men whose approval I couldn't care less about at that point in my life. And the more people told me I was wrong or tried to change my mind, the more I dug in my heels and reveled in my freedom and self-determination. Dating was a non-issue to me and I ignored it for as long as worked for me. It's what made me the most comfortable based on my emotional and psychological needs at that point and I don't regret it in the slightest.

The reality is that my self-imposed dating exile filtered out any guys presenting themselves as "friends" who really only wanted to see what they could get out of me with the usual minimal effort (spoiler alert: nothing). The only guys who stuck around in my life were those who could handle a woman being intentionally single (horror of horrors!) for her own purposes and for as long as she felt it served those purposes. The not so great friends called me a manhater and lambasted me for not being flattered by shitty, unwanted male advances. The real friends stood by me and let me know they enjoyed my company even if there wasn't something else in it for them (be it validation of their own relationship, or any potential datey-stuff with me). Either way I made myself exactly as vulnerable as I wanted to (not very) and learned exactly what I needed to know about all of my male friends.


I'm not saying there is a universal formula that will work for everyone. And I'm sure there are plenty of couples out there who would love nothing more than to fling a pitchfork through my blackened heart for suggesting their relationship sucks because they make each other cry sometimes. Hey, if that's what you want, only you can choose to accept it. No one can tell you if you're happy or if it's worth it. We all have to decide for ourselves if that's a worthwhile use of our time. All I know after many years of buying into the crappy love lies I've dissected here is it's not for me and it's not what I'd want for anyone I care about. And after all, love is all you need. Just kidding, that's stupid. You need money and cats, yes, but love is optional. No one needs love just to exist, but whatever you choose to accept and define as love, I hope it's at least something that brings more good to your life than bad.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

4 effortless ways to save money doing things you already do

When it comes to cash money, there are a couple things I happen to really enjoy doing:

a) Saving money on things I was going to buy anyway without actually changing anything I do.
b) Generating passive income.

So here are a few nice "set it and forget it", virtually effortless ideas I've come across to accomplish exactly that.

1. Allstate Drivewise
In order to try the Drivewise program, you obviously have to be going through Allstate as your insurance provider. I wouldn't say it's necessarily worth switching to Allstate just for Drivewise (I was already with Allstate because I get discounts for bundling my homeowners and car insurance), but if you do happen to be with them already or are insurance-hunting at the moment, Drivewise is worth considering.

The idea behind Drivewise is that it rewards you for being what Allstate defines as a safe driver. When you sign up for the program, they send you a free device which plugs into your car's On-Board Diagnostics port (OBD-II) and monitors your speed and braking, which you can then review in your live report online. If that sounds too Big Brother-esque to you, worry not because you cannot be punished or have your premiums increased because of your activity recorded by Drivewise, no matter how you drive; it can only help you if you abide by the program's four interesting limitations.

In essence, they want you to:

- Not drive over 80 MPH (easy as long as you don't drive like you're playing Mario Kart)
- Not have "hard" or "extreme" braking events (slightly more difficult due to unavoidable braking events such as suicidal animals darting out in front of you, so this factor is not weighted as much into your final discount. Also harder to determine what Drivewise arbitrarily considers to be "hard" vs. "extreme". Did you push that brake? Or push it real good? Only your doctor knows for sure.)
- Not drive during "higher risk" times of day (very hard to do because they define 12 PM - 11 PM weekdays as "moderate risk", and 11 PM - 4 AM weekdays + 11 PM - 5 AM weekends as "high risk". So basically if you have a job and/or a social life, then as the Canadians say, you're hooped)
- Not accumulate much mileage in general (also very hard to do, as this is the most heavily weighted factor in your Drivewise discount, and unless you deliberately stop driving your car when you need to and cut out all pleasure cruises, this will be downright impossible. I have a 5 minute commute to work, never go on pointless drives, and still have a "C" grade for mileage. I knew you never loved me, Allstate, because you're not my real dad!)

Here are some screenshots of my Drivewise report so you can see how great I am at driving below Mach 3, but doing plenty of it. Despite kicking ass at the only factors I can truly control without quitting my job and living in a van down by the river (speed and braking), Drivewise is highly displeased and currently calculates my discount at a meager 4%. However, this is just a predicted rate; I could change the final discount rate if I improve my "lacking" areas before my next policy period.

Despite my above griping, saving some money is preferable to saving no money, and is better than a kick in the head. If you already have low mileage or don't drive during the busiest hours, you apparently can save up to 30% by maxing out all four factors. Drive wise, indeed.

2. PSE HomePrint
This is another somewhat exclusive option which is only available if you live in an area serviced by Puget Sound Energy in Washington state. I happen to live in Thurston county, noticed the advert for HomePrint in one of my PSE mailings, and noted its appealing qualities as one of those rare, actual "get something for nothing" opportunities that generally don't happen in life.

HomePrint is a free assessment service provided by PSE. They send a contractor to your house who evaluates your home, identifies potential money-saving areas or problems, generates an online report with all the results... oh and they give you up to 20 high-efficiency LED light bulbs, 1-2 high performance showerheads, and depending on whether the offer is available, you can get up to 10 CFL bulbs for indoor/outdoor use as well. As I always say, "free" is a price point that works for me as a consumer.

When I had the contractor come by, it was near the end of his schedule for the day so he didn't have as many bulbs available. However, I did get several efficient LED light bulbs out of the deal (received and installed), as well as a free showerhead (which you need to install yourself, but I'm sorry did I mention that it's FWEEEEE?). He had some interesting tidbits for me, such as pointing out that my cloudy gas fireplace cover probably was overdue to be professionally cleaned, and letting me know I could save money by turning off the gas for the summer. They make contractor referrals if you're interested and tell you about Energy Star appliances you can get but aren't pushy about it.

Here's a screenshot of the online report, indicating my overall energy efficiency compared to others in my neighborhood, and including a summary of PSE's recommendations for additional ways I can save on my energy bill. TUBULAR.

3. Mint free credit score check
So I use Mint regularly and have sung its praises before. From what I've seen, it lives up to its claim as the best free budgeting web app out there. And today I noticed that they launched a new feature that caught my eye: a free credit score check. According to Mint, it costs nothing and does not count as a credit inquiry or affect your score in any way. They also have options for a paid credit monitoring service, but the score check is free and should remain that way in the future. By inputting my name, address, and secure SSN information, I got immediate sexy results. Not only that, but it will update for me again automatically for the same low price of zero dollars on 11/25/2014. Nice. (Below is a partial screenshot of my results)

The credit score results also included some brief but important details about how the score is calculated and makes suggestions for how you can improve each of these aspects, which is a nice credit 101 intro or refresher for anyone who might be wondering. Namely, they highlight that your score is derived from:

- Credit card usage (high impact)
- Payment history (high impact)
- Age of credit (medium impact)
- Total accounts (low impact)
- Credit inquiries (low impact)
- Derogatory marks (high impact)

Being aware of and actively managing the various components that comprise your credit score is important for getting the best rates on major purchases and thereby saving money. And since this credit check and a account are free, you have nothing to lose by finding out where you stand. Except your mortal soul!

4. Wells Fargo rewards
There are a lot of credit cards with rewards programs out there. Currently all three of my credit cards have such a program. My CitiBank card earns points which are not directly redeemable for cash and therefore is trash which should be thrown in the trash can where trash belongs. My Bank of America card accumulates something called "WorldPoints" with every single purchase, which can indeed be exchanged for cash. However, the points don't reach their full value for cash redemption until you go over a certain very high threshold, which in my experience was roughly in the ballpark of freaking eternity. In the past I might get $50-100 after years on end of saving points, and then have to wait several days or weeks for the money to appear in my account.

So far, my Wells Fargo rewards program is the best of the bunch. My WF credit card also earns points with every purchase. However, unlike BoA, the points instantly have their full value regardless of how many points I've earned. I can also set it to auto-redeem for $25 cash rewards, which is deposited quickly into my checking account. So far, just making my normal purchases and living life like a boss (I always buy all my groceries, gas, and everything else I can via my card, and then just immediately pay it off to earn points), I've earned a $25 cash reward about every other month.

I switched to Wells Fargo and started using the credit card on 11/4/2013. According to my Wells Fargo Rewards online summary, in the roughly 10 months since then I've earned five $25 cash rewards. So $125 for essentially nothing I wasn't doing already. If there's a better rewards program out there I'd love to hear about it, but since I care about cash redemption (not travel miles or discounts off online mall purchases), I've yet to see better rates or quicker turnaround for that purpose.

Monday, August 4, 2014

The magical thing that happens when you say how you really feel all the time

This year I've become a lot more open in sharing my opinions on topics I felt were not only important to me, but should have been relatively non-controversial in the year 20-freaking-14. You know.... racism, rape, serial killing, CF-shaming, and other such archaic practices that no sane person would seriously endeavor to defend. You would think. And you would be wrong.

I noticed a big difference in the way people treat me when I speak out against terrible, inhumane, discriminatory, and outdated practices. Which is to say, I've found out who they really are and how much (or little) they actually care about my comfort level and feelings. Valuable information and hard to come by, so allow me to share these highly effective techniques.

Saying that Elliot Rodger (the serial killer who wrote an entire damn manifesto about how much he hated women) hated women earned me the coveted title of "bitch". Which I'm pretty sure qualifies as irony upon irony. Ironyception!

Saying that Donald Sterling was a racist who deserved to be punished for his horrific statements about the Clippers and people of color in general (and pointing out the bothersome indisputable fact that the NBA was well within their legal rights to do so because they are a private organization, not a court of law) apparently made me "immature" and was indicative of my sad, pathetic need to "get the last word". I mean, my refusal to let a racist off the hook because he's a rich white man was disturbing enough, but this trend of inexplicably upsetting others with factual statements continues unabated as well. CAN I EVER BE STOPPED?

Saying that I did not wish to be hit on by a man who was in my home strictly because I needed a business service meant that I deserve scorn and ridicule heaped all over me for daring not to be flattered by the unwanted, unprofessional advances of someone abusing their chosen line of employment to hit on women inside their own homes. After all, a man's home is his castle, but a woman's home is just another place where she should expect to field wonky come ons from strangers all the time, be grateful for their untoward advances, and be told how to feel by people on Facebook who don't pay rent there.

Saying that I disagree with the notion that a man should not do anything to change himself but a woman should always suppress anything she does or says that offends his delicate sensibilities allowed me to be enlightened to the revelation that my radical feminist views (lol) would not attract anyone but effeminate sissy men. I guess they're right though. Any man who isn't constantly telling women what to do and how to feel is clearly surrendering his masculinity and definitely not suffering from painfully obvious insecurity and control issues. If there's anything that demonstrates a man's confidence in himself, it's when he deliberately arranges his entire life so that no one is allowed to defy him.

Saying that Marilyn Monroe was a prostitute, in that she accepted money for sex and is another of those obnoxious factual statements, revealed the little known fact that somehow I am a "slut-shamer" (even though it was the man in the thread who called Marilyn Monroe a "whore", but I was a woman making factual statements and was therefore in dire need of correction). That's right, everyone: it's possible to be both a crazy, manhating, radical feminist AND an out-of-touch, woman-hating slut-shamer at the same time. Jealous much? I don't know how I pull off this balancing act so well, honestly, but when you're this big of a bitch and so super wrong and uneducated about women's issues, I guess it comes naturally.

Saying that I was not trying to date anymore, didn't want to get legally married and was not on the prowl for a S.O. like everyone else I know constantly trolling for tail and not bothering to come to my birthday if there weren't going to be any "hot single chicks" in attendance was a huge indication that I must be a manhater. In fact, it was so obvious that I had to be reminded of my clinically diagnosed misandry numerous times by several different people, just in case I forgot how much I hate all men ever, especially all my male friends that I've enjoyed spending time with for years, my beloved male family members who I must have forgotten were in possession of a dreaded X and Y chromosome, and definitely the man who ended up becoming my best friend and showing me that I was capable of caring about someone again even when I genuinely believed I couldn't, because he was and is the only man I've ever met in my life who doesn't tell me what to do or try to change my mind about how I feel. I think I hate him most of all ♥

So there it is. Look at how much I've learned!

Sound tragic? Not really. The fallout of these ridiculous exchanges is as follows:

- I found out which among my friends are actually emotionally safe to talk to about events in my life that made me uncomfortable, such as rape culture and street harassment, and who reacts with victim-blaming, #notAllMen, and overall dismissal of my experiences, as though my reactions are not warranted and my experiences are invalid because they are men and #notAllMen, QED.
- I don't have to waste my time sharing such experiences with people who do not respect my feelings.
- I deleted and/or blocked about 20 people who contributed nothing positive to my life, inserted misogynist diatribes into discussions, and were incapable of rational, civil discussion. I don't miss them at all and have realized how much easier life is when I refuse to engage people who are caught in a 1950s timewarp.
- I have found and strengthened bonds between friends who just freaking get it and understand that racists, misogynists, and rabid pronatalists are on the wrong side of history.
- I spoke my mind and nobody died.
- Deal with it.

It's been an educational year, to say the least. And I expect to learn so much more. I learned a lot every time some "friend" quietly deleted me whenever I'd speak out against rape culture or society's animosity toward CF people. I learned even more from all the crybaby boys who threw hissy fits because I said women are human beings or racism is wrong, and told me I would never be wanted by "real men" like them, as if I ever could bear the thought of attracting attention from such cretins in the first place. Thanks for the lesson in true friendship, my dears. I'll keep on revealing how I truly feel and I'm sure the rest of the world will reveal itself in kind.

If you can handle all this jelly, that is.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

As a childfree woman with endometriosis, it is my sincerely held belief that Hobby Lobby can toss off

I've spent the past couple days fuming in response to the utterly unconscionable SCOTUS decision to allow Hobby Lobby and other such businesses to arbitrarily deny coverage of certain forms of birth control to women, because a corporation can apparently have personal religious beliefs now and I guess that somehow precludes a woman's right to medical treatment and reproductive health. Then I got to endure my own friends sharing ignorant memes on FB and defending this ass backwards medieval bullshit, and have struggled with if or how to address it in my own words and whether that would even be a worthwhile endeavor.

Even though there's been plenty in the way of stunningly kickass responses to this unfathomably stupid event, I concluded that given my own personal history, my contribution to the backlash on this topic might have some value. For those who don't know, I have endometriosis, a chronically painful condition occurring in about 6-10% of the female population. I was a late bloomer so my life wasn't affected until I was 16, and since I had nothing but my own experience to compare my pain to, I assumed that the horrific gut-wrenching agony I experienced must be the monthly cramps I'd been warned about in health class.

Most people I've spoken to about my condition didn't know what it entailed or had never even heard of it before. As such, I feel like it's important to spell out for the world at large what my life looked like for 15 years, and what exactly people are writing off when they say women with endo and their need for prescription birth control don't matter.

I spent an inordinate amount of time in high school and college writhing on the ground in complete misery a few days out of the month. Back then I believed in G-d; I didn't pray often or really ask for anything as I felt it was silly to pray for a good grade or for some guy to like me or whatever people generally seek divine assistance with. But as my body was doubled over and contorted in debilitating pain for hours, in my despair I begged for G-d to take it away. He did not.

I can remember a few occasions where I woke up laying on the floor after passing out from pain. One of those times was in the ladies' room in my freshman dorm as I was either waiting for or returning from the showers. I stared at the ceiling, realized where I was, felt extremely embarrassed and hoped no one saw me collapsed and sprawled all over the tile. Either they didn't or they ignored me as I was unconscious.

While the intensity of my endo cramps seemed to lessen as the years went on, it still regularly caused me to back out of events, waste leave and miss work, leaving me confined to my bed even with the assistance of painkillers. I also found myself throwing up from the pain as recently as 2012.

The unpredictability and uncontrollable intensity of my pain and symptoms made it extremely difficult to manage. And to make matters worse, the first time I was prescribed birth control pills as a medical treatment at the age of 18, I didn't take them. The stigma surrounding the appearance of birth control pills, as well as my self-appointed religious inclinations at that point in my life, deterred me from even trying hormonal management of my condition, because I didn't want to be seen as some bad girl. After all, I could always suffer in silence instead of tarnishing my prudish reputation, pure as the driven snow, by taking birth control pills, which as we all know are always for controlling birth (as if there's anything wrong with that), even when you're not sexually active and are suffering from a related medical condition.

In 2007, one day I suddenly could no longer walk because of my cramps, threw up at work, collapsed on the floor and had to be taken to the hospital via ambulance. It was then that I was finally diagnosed with endometriosis. At that time I also had to have laparoscopic surgery to remove one of the ovarian cysts that frequently co-occurs with endo. Here's a fond memory of that ordeal, taken at home a couple days after the surgery:

Despite suffering from a diagnosed condition that I had no control over, the bills rolled in. I was fortunate enough to be able to afford the co-pays, prescription pain medications, ambulance cost, and birth control pills (for the short time I took BC pills in a mostly fruitless attempt to manage my pain). Not everyone can afford these things out of pocket or has access to them through their health care coverage like I did. And whether someone suffers from endo, PCOS, or any other number of conditions which frequently necessitate the use of hormonal BC pills to regulate pain, the bottom line is that no female -- adult or not, employed or not, or aligned with her employer's religious views or not -- should be denied access to whatever form of birth control and/or reproductive service she wants for whatever reason she deems fit.

I don't have to justify not wanting children to anyone.

I don't have to justify not wanting to be in horrific pain, or wanting the option to discover which reproductive services work best for me, to anyone.

Women who aren't ready to have children, or are done having them, do not have to justify this decision to anyone.

Reproductive health takes precedence over you and your company's religious views. Always.

Both men and women should be trusted to make their own decisions regarding their health and fertility, which is between them and their doctor alone.

I am absolutely incensed, outraged and disgusted that anyone would have the audacity to suggest that their ancient holy book of choice has anything to do with my real medical condition, and my real decision not to let anyone tell me what to do with my internal organs ever again.

If you are a female or know one and are still inexplicably defending Hobby Lobby, I suggest you educate yourself about the far-reaching medical implications this decision could have on millions of women who depend on various birth control methods as medical treatment and/or to prevent unwanted pregnancies. A reasonable person would not be opposed to these things. And if you're not a reasonable person and are so devoid of empathy and compassion that you feel nothing for women like myself who have been punished first by my own body and second by a society that told me I was selfish and wrong for not wanting children, you have no business weighing in on the subject.

Saturday, June 7, 2014

Regulating 101: Come at me and break yourself for fun and reddit gold

A couple years ago, my sister had recently broken up with her boyfriend, who I shall refer to hereafter as King Douche (a title I feel is well-earned, as his douchey flavor of BS is elaborated upon later in this post). Since he would not stop harassing her, I wrote a long sarcastic diatribe calling him out on all his idiocy (as is my wont), PM'd it to him on Facebook and essentially told him to go take a long walk because I may not cut an intimidating figure in person but I'll happily lay waste to a bitch with the written word; it's what I do.

Fast forward to today: two days ago my sister shared this letter on the /r/relationships subreddit, it made the rounds and got thousands more views than any individual post I've made on my blog. That's rather overwhelming on its own, but the response in the comments was also universally positive, which is pretty much unheard of for me and my experience with reddit, that ruthless self-esteem woodchipper of the internet. So I thought I'd share the letter I submitted in my righteous fury to King Douche here in its entirety for your viewing pleasure. Forewarning: in case you somehow weren't aware, I don't suffer fools lightly.


I heard about your friends throwing a big retard party all over your FB page when you broke up with Kerry, saying uncalled-for and disrespectful things like "Thank God" and discussing how now "the crew" can finally hang out again. Oh, well whoopty-shit and praise be! I had already deleted you when this happened (for which you should be very grateful) but my sister and mom were still friends with you. You knew they could potentially see this, and yet you allowed Kerry to be publicly attacked and deeply hurt anyway. This unacceptable display of junior high-mentality bullshit combined with your last few months of hypocritical, childish behavior has earned you a permanent spot on my shit list.

I heard that Carly has already informed you that your character has been tarnished in her eyes, which is appropriate given your ridiculous antics, yet sad in light of the fact that she came to your defense when you and Kerry were on the verge of breaking up the first time. Well, I wasn't fooled then and I'm not fooled now. She's much more polite than I'll ever be towards anyone who thinks they can hurt MY family and not hear about it from me.

Let's get one thing straight: In every point of contention between you and Kerry that I've been privy to, you are wrong. That's not my opinion; that's a fact. You are objectively, absolutely wrong. Hell, let's just go down the list right now so I can give you a quick summary using the logical faculties you are clearly lacking:

John thinks: He can invite his girlfriend to move in with him and then let his idiotic friends call her a bitch, talk shit about her, and keep her up at all hours of the night on weekdays.
Reality says: Turns out, no! You don't get to have your cake and eat it too. That's not actually how it works. Relationships require compromise, and I don't give a rat's ass what your brother's wife puts up with (congrats to her on being a doormat). The fact that you would even make the elementary school "But the other kids' moms let them do it!" argument is just beyond comprehension. You don't get to have a live-in girlfriend yet also act like a single man living alone, especially with a crew of moronic butt buddies like the ones you've accumulated who somehow think it's acceptable for adults to act like drunken idiots at someone else's house at all hours any day of the week. The fact that you failed to use common sense to protect her within a situation that was YOUR idea is absolutely ridiculous. If you want to party every night and act like a bunch of preschoolers, here's what you do: DON'T GET A GIRLFRIEND. It's not that difficult. If I even had an acquaintance over at my house I would never expect them to tolerate the ludicrous antics that transpired under your watch, let alone someone in a relationship with me who I professed to care deeply about.

John thinks: When you obviously stop caring about a person, the solution is to just exclude them from group activities with your friends, and not tell them about plans you've made.
Reality says: Wrong again. When you love someone, you WANT to spend more time with them. You WANT to integrate them into your life and group of friends. And if you don't want that (or your dumbass friends don't want it and you're apparently a slave to their wishes), then you can do the mature thing, acknowledge your feelings and break up with them. That doesn't mean you should've spent 24 hours with her and report all of your activities back to base every single day. But it does mean you don't maliciously, inexplicably exclude your girlfriend from select events because your brigade of loudmouth loser friends demands it. Oh, and btw... "I don't have time to talk about this right now" is just Dickhead-talk for "I don't give a fuck about you or how hurt you are by me, ever." You MAKE time for people you care about, jackass. In fact, you don't create situations where you know they'll be hurt in the first place if you can possibly avoid it.

John thinks: When your family voices their opposition to the relationship from the beginning for absolutely no reason other than the fact that she doesn't attend the same church as them, the best thing to do is keep quiet and dare not oppose them.
Reality says: No. Do you honestly believe this would never have become a point of contention in the long run? If you're dating someone and you have friends and family that don't approve for no good reason WHATSOEVER, you either make the damn effort to help them appreciate your relationship, or you can side with them and just push your supposedly "unworthy" girlfriend out of your life. Doing nothing and just letting such utter irrationality and needless antagonism run rampant is not an option. Not that Kerry isn't better off without your family's snotty, irrational judgments glowering down from the ivory tower of superiority they've constructed.

John thinks: You can invite a girl to live in your house and then woefully inform her that the Godly thing to do is not have a girl living in your house.
Reality says: Maybe you could've taken 5 minutes out of your life to contemplate this issue BEFORE you inconvenienced Kerry beyond belief by making her abandon her home and move in with you. Not that you were being sincere; it's obvious you never had a problem with her living there, staying over, or sleeping in the same bed. As we've already established, Kerry moving in was entirely your idea in the first place. You just needed a cop-out excuse to cover for the fact that at the end of the day, you treated her like shit and are too chickenshit to take responsibility for it. And wow, what a perfect excuse it was! Not only did you get to look like Mr. Hero of Benevolence by letting her move in and "save rent money" (even though she was the one who had to take all the risk, undertake the ordeal of moving, and you didn't have to lift a finger or change one thing in your life, which is clearly how you prefer things to be and reflected your actual investment in the relationship, which was nothing), but then you get to invoke the divine, impregnable defense of "God made me do it" when you end the relationship. Do you really believe anyone in our family is dumb enough to fall for that garbage? Funnily enough, my ex also tried playing the God card when he realized I wasn't going to do ALL the work to continue the relationship. He claimed he prayed about it and God decided our relationship should be over, and I can't argue with God, right? God is ALWAYS RIGHT. And always conveniently on his side. And then he didn't have to answer for the fact that he expected me to give up everything while he gave up nothing, just as you refuse to own up to your bullshit as well. Sure enough, then he came crawling back, claiming he missed me and wanting to talk to me again (and that God ordained that as well), just as you too have followed the predictable script of the Immature Man Who Doesn't Know What He Wants But Will Use God As A Plot Device To Acquire It. You can hide behind God all you want, but you aren't fooling Kerry or me. btw, if you're so concerned about what God thinks, maybe you should've contemplated that while your worthless friends were insulting her to your face.

This concludes our study in Introduction To Logic 101. If you take away one thing from this message, I hope it's this: everyone in my family is fully aware of how you've treated Kerry, and the strategies you're currently employing in a piss-poor attempt to backpedal your way out of looking like a selfish little boy and manipulate her into talking to you again. We rightly disapprove and will never condone a relationship or friendship between the two of you again since this is how you treat the people you allegedly care about. So you will now stop bothering her and trying to selfishly convince her she should give a shit about you on any level, as if she'd have anything to gain from maintaining any sort of contact with you. That's not a suggestion. On the bright side, now you can devote yourself fully to the company of upstanding people in your "crew" like Justin who cheat on their girlfriend, have no job and live with their mom. They do say that water seeks its own level. Adios.


Here's a sampling of the incomprehensibly positive feedback on the reddit submission. The "sister" mentioned in the comments is me. Still completely stunned that something I wrote went over this well with that massive of an audience. I like to entertain but more important than that for me is to write something that makes a difference and to stand up for people who deserve it. That's what I've dreamed about achieving for a long time and it feels kind of amazing to secure a little slice of that and know that my writing resonates with people. (Hint: any positive feedback, let alone a deluge of accolades like this, makes my entire life. I'll just go ahead and admit that now.)

It's hard to just keep putting things out in the universe and not know how or if it was received by anyone in particular, but encouragement like this motivates me so much to keep doing what I'm doing, and makes it feel meaningful and real. Thanks for the props, redditors -- it's appreciated so much more than I can adequately express.

Now y'all be good so I don't have to regulate on that ass.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

The power of No

People share a lot of advice about how to live your life. Most of it all sounds the same to me, and never deviates far from one central theme: pain is happiness and your life isn't about you. Sounds like some kind of deranged Orwellian doublespeak, but this is what people regularly recommend for others without a hint of irony:

Say yes to everything. Take a million risks per day. Forget about money and follow your wildest dreams. Ignore every logical instinct from your brain and let yourself be controlled by impulsive emotions from the heart instead. Put everyone else's needs before you all the time, because life isn't about you, ever. Also, apparently you can take any risk except fighting for what's right, because you should just smilingly accept whatever happens to you in life, no matter how demeaning.

How totally not played out.

The problem with all this shallow conventional wisdom is that it doesn't actually work for anyone I've seen promoting it. It's the polar opposite of pragmatic; there's nothing even resembling a strategy for success that you can apply in real life to achieve your goals. It's blind hope that everything will turn out perfect. It's blissful, sophomoric ignorance of Murphy's Law. And most troubling yet, it's a sort of proud, martyr-like insistence that terrible situations are actually always beneficial. And even if your life is irrevocably ruined by all this constant risk-taking, who cares because #YOLO.

As always, I prefer to consider the advice of successful people who have achieved their goals. For instance, I dunno, maybe Warren Buffett, legendary billionaire investor and philanthropist.

Giving in and doing crazy things isn't the liberating, difficult, or even uncommon decision it's made out to be in the standard Facebook inspirational quotes clogging up my intertubes all day. It's not hard in the slightest. In fact, it's appealing, so of course the tendency is to seek out "wisdom" that recommends what we already want to do. Confirmation bias is precious that way.

What I've found is actually difficult, rewarding, and personally empowering is discretion. Thinking critically while fools rush in. Exercising patience and restraint instead of indulging in recklessness as a philosophy. Not giving away trust or anything else of value to just anyone who wants it. I might be taking some creative license with the quote about saying "no" to almost everything, but in all reality it's not just what works best for me -- it's the only thing that worked at all.

I say no to those who would disrespect me and exploit my latent people-pleasing tendencies.
I say no to frivolous spending and the irresponsible justifications that accompany it.
I say no to those who order me to be grateful for suffering and to be flattered by unwanted attention.
I say no to the mindless destruction of my health and body.
I say no to staying silent in the face of social injustice or my own mistreatment.
I say no to relying on others for shelter, food, or anything else I need to survive.
I say no to the desperate codependency, settling, and disappointment that was my dating life.
I say no to anyone who tries to test my physical or emotional boundaries.
I say no to anyone saying I shouldn't say no, or don't know what's best for me.
I say no to unnecessary favors or shortcuts to something I could accomplish myself.
I say no because it gives me the leverage people have tried to take away from me.

So what do I have to show for this relentless deluge of no?

I purged all the useless sycophants, bullies, and tools from my life, and my circle of friends has organically expanded to include more genuinely wonderful people than at any point heretofore.
I paid off my car this year. And I'm going to pay off my student loan this year as well.
I'm at my peak of financial awareness and security.
I feel better physically than I ever have in my life since undergoing my hysterectomy against the unsolicited advice of everyone who told me to change my mind.
I feel no pressure or desire for relationships in the traditional sense, or marriage. Now I can spend all that time, money and energy doing literally anything else and it will be better spent in the process, knowing without a doubt that it wasn't what it was cracked up to be.
I am equipped to ensure that depression and anxiety are avoided or kept to a minimum in my life, having gone out of my way to avoid the circumstances that caused them to surface and deteriorate my physical and mental health.
I maintain self-reliance, and know that no one can take away my transportation, the roof over my head or anything else I need.
I am satisfied knowing that I speak up instead of assuming the ever familiar role of the shrinking violet when the situation calls for it.

All I can do is speak to my own experience. But ever since I started saying no more often, and having the audacity not to suppress my own needs for all eternity, every single aspect of my life has improved. And aside from all that, it feels a lot better than being just another "yes man".

Friday, May 16, 2014

Depression is real.

Yesterday a friend was asking me if I'd been seeing anyone or had any "boy toys". I've been pretty outspoken about my deliberate/militant single status, but sometimes the occasional question comes up, so I reiterated that no, I haven't been on a single date since I became single and am not interested in doing so. I was single for seven years straight before; another year is nothing, because it's not hard for me and I don't define myself or my purpose through other people. Elaborating further, I explained that dating has caused the most horrific problems I've ever faced in my life, including the clinical depression I suffered from last year. I mentioned this was easily the worst thing that ever happened to me, as it wreaked havoc on my physical and mental health and every other aspect of my life for months on end, and I refuse to end up in that place ever again. Dating was a casualty of this decision and as far as I was concerned, nothing of value was lost. I figured this would settle the matter, but the well-meaning assurance that I shouldn't just "give up" which I've been getting more accustomed to hearing came anyway.

I know my friends have good intentions. And I appreciate that they want my happiness (even if they don't yet see that my happiness will never look quite like theirs). But when those rebuttals come, as they always do, I can't help but feel like the worst experience of my life is being dismissed. That depression isn't the showstopper that I know it was in my life, that it's not a big deal or even, as some dishearteningly insist, maybe not even considered a real thing.

In the interest of gauging general sentiment on the subject, I conducted the highly scientific experiment of Googling the phrase "depression is" to see what most people are searching for. The results were, well... profoundly depressing.

"Depression is not real"? "Depression is a choice"? Wowee wow wow, have we got a long ways to go as a society. The stigma and rampant misunderstanding that typically surround mental illness are absolutely thriving (unlike everyone afflicted with clinical depression).

To start, depression cannot be relegated to the same happy fun imagination category as luck dragons, unicorns, eligible bachelors and other things that aren't real. Depression is frighteningly real. It's realer than real deal Holyfield. And in all seriousness, major depressive disorder is fully recognized by both the DSM and the ICD, the criteria used worldwide to classify mental disorders. It has recognizable symptoms, is diagnosed by medical professionals, and (thankfully) has various forms of treatment. It fits every definition of a legitimate mental disorder. I was diagnosed with major depression on July 18, 2013, and I'm relatively certain that wasn't just an extremely lucid yet boring dream I had about the doctor's office. Hallucinations aren't one of the symptoms.

Major depression up in here! You know we do it big.

My theory is that part of the problem behind the widespread ignorance surrounding depression is the terminology. Everybody feels down sometimes. "I'm really depressed," they'll say. This is not the same thing as "I am not functional and cry every day and haven't felt joy for months on end." And try as I might, I can't really explain quite how terrible and desperate that feels. All I can say is that there's no gray area. If you're not sure if you've been clinically depressed, you haven't. You'll know.

So the terminology gets confused, and people start to think depression isn't real, because everybody "gets depressed" on occasion. Nobody goes around saying "I'm feeling so endometriosis right now" when they experience bad menstrual cramps, because unless you're a hack like Dr. Drew, most people fully recognize that endometriosis is a legitimate medical condition and they don't patronize those who suffer from it by claiming it isn't real, nor do they confuse "period cramps" with "endo cramps" because the two are just not remotely in the same ball park.

I also think many people don't quite grasp the implications of depression if they haven't experienced it firsthand. It's hard to imagine genuinely hating everything about your life, wishing for death, and practically willing yourself out of existence.

To that end, it might be useful to include here some snippets from my diary. I've kept a journal every day for the last four years and never shared any of it with anyone before now. It's not always incredibly in-depth; in fact, it's mostly a barebones collection of facts. I usually just sum up what I did, where I went, who I saw and how I felt, for my own reference. Here are some relevant selections (I omitted all but the pertinent details) from my diary, most of which were written during the height of my depression.

It's not especially exciting, perhaps. Most of the time my days were a repetitive blur of sleeping too much, sleeping too little, and crying a whole lot, which was one of the most horrific distinguishing features of my depression (will this ever end?).

But it's real.

A selected diary of six months of depression

6/13/2013: Woke up still feeling kind of sick but increasingly more detached and numb... have been completely ignored.

6/15/2013: ... it's becoming that much more obvious how much I don't fit in.

6/22/2013: Slept in... cried, and did some writing.

6/23/2013: Went to Southcenter to kill time, but got incredibly upset at how alone I felt, started crying, called mom and went over to her place. We talked for a long time and I felt like I broke down.

6/25/2013: I'm still having mood swings all over the map. Now I've come to the conclusion that I don't have thick enough skin, and simply can't go through this again. I hate this situation.

6/27/2013: Today was the worst day of my life.

7/3/2013: Felt pretty sick again in the morning, and saw my weight is almost down to 100 lbs, but went to work anyway.

7/7/2013: Slept in late. Had food, wrote a bit. Cried a lot.

7/8/2013: Went to work. Felt sick most the evening and went to bed.

7/9/2013: Slept in not feeling well.

7/10/2013: Went to work. Wasn't feeling great.

7/11/2013: Slept in not feeling well again, and eventually went into work at noon. Came home and was crying a lot.

7/12/2013: My anxiety was flaring up again.

7/16/2013: Today was completely fucking ridiculous. I'm struggling with the worst event of my life and bawling my eyes out every day. I cried a lot at work. Went home from work, mom called and I was upset and crying again.

7/17/2013: Cried a lot and went to bed.

7/18/2013: Woke up feeling like I was having some kind of mini anxiety attacks. Felt sick and [supervisor] suggested I stay home. My weight is down to 100 lbs now. Went to my doctor appointment. They noticed my weight loss (7 lbs since my last visit) and I talked about my issues with anxiety, endometriosis pain, and concerns about my family history of fibroids. Thankfully, the nurse and doctor were supportive, and said I'm old enough to know what I want and could get a hysterectomy if I want to. The doctor said she'd refer me to the gynecologist, and I'd call them to make an appointment. I filled out some questionnaires about anxiety and depression, and she said I scored highly on both, so she prescribed me some medication to assist with those conditions, and also help my problems with sleeping lately.

7/19/2013: Went to work. Cried throughout the day. Picked up my depression medication at Group Health. Took all my pills (birth control, anxiety, depression). Was crying.

7/20/2013: Slept in. Still crying every day.

7/21/2013: Slept in. Felt sick and cried all day.

7/22/2013: My weight keeps dropping. Went to work. Felt sick all day and could barely eat. Mom asked how I was doing, I said I felt nauseated and she had Bob Houk prescribe an anti-nausea medication for me. I picked it up at Group Health and she came down to see me. We watched Netflix and she made me some food but I could barely eat it. Mom wants me to take more time off work because I'm crying and feeling ill all day. Took my pills and went to bed.

7/23/2013: Stayed home from work feeling sick. Took one of the anti-nausea pills but it seemed to take a long time to do anything. Went back to bed after eating some cereal with mom, cried and felt sick. [friend] asked if we were still on for gaming tonight and I said I stayed home feeling sick. [friend] asked about trivia and I said the same. I am so tired of being told I have to internalize everything whenever someone wrongs me. I'm feeling better physically than I was last night. Went to bed and couldn't sleep all night.

7/24/2013: Stayed home from work again because I didn't get any sleep and felt sick. Took a nausea pill and mostly just stayed in bed, cried and didn't feel well. Had a hard time eating.

7/25/2013: Stayed home from work again. Slept better but still not feeling well and can hardly eat. Doctor Powell messaged me in the morning to check in; I described how I'm having trouble eating due to nausea/anxiety and she suggested trying half or a quarter of an anxiety pill. I had half a pill and it seemed to help. Ate more than yesterday. Took my pills and went to bed.

7/26/2013: Went to work and took half an anxiety pill. Felt pretty drowsy in the morning, but otherwise felt OK.

7/29/2013: Got no sleep the night before because I ran out of Lorazepam. Slept in because I was exhausted, went to Group Health to refill my Reclipsen, then went to work for a half day. Messaged the doctor and she refilled my prescription and said I could continue taking it sparingly as needed. Came home and cried a lot. Went to the store, then went to Group Health again to refill the Lorazepam.

7/30/2013: Woke up and felt like crap because of my cramps, but went to work anyway.

8/3/2013: Went out to Hannah's for the first time in a while. Hung out for a while, then started crying, got embarrassed and [friend] took me home.

8/4/2013: Slept in, then drove up to Anthony's in Des Moines for mom's birthday dinner. Got upset at the end of the evening, started crying and just went home.

8/7/2013: Went to work. Went to my OB/GYN appointment at Group Health and the specialist said I could get an ablation, tubal ligation, hysterectomy or whatever I wanted, but she'd recommend waiting until I was more out of the woods with my depression.

8/8/2013: Slept in not feeling great and was just extremely tired. Went to work at lunch time. Came home, was bored out of my mind and cried.

8/13/2013: Went to work, had a shitty day and cried a lot.

8/14/2013: Stayed home from work.

8/16/2013: Went to work, came home, did pretty much nothing and went to bed.

8/18/2013: Slept in. Went to Group Health to refill my prescriptions.

8/23/2013: Went to work. Went to Nickleby's for karaoke with [friends], then went home not feeling great.

8/24/2013: Slept in, had breakfast, went back to bed until mom texted me at 2 asking if I wanted to come over. Drove to the condo, we talked for a while and had dinner. This was the first day since [Nameless Abuser] dumped me that I haven't cried.

8/26/2013: Stayed home from work feeling sick.

8/27/2013: Stayed home from work again not feeling well. Took Vicodin and napped for a long time.

8/28/2013: Stayed home from work again. Didn't do much.

8/29/2013: Took the first half of the day off not feeling well. Went to Group Health and refilled my Lorazepam.

9/4/2013: Slept in not feeling well. Had a half day at work.

9/9/2013: Slept in not feeling well. Went to work for a half day.

9/10/2013: Went to work. Went to the grocery store. Cried a lot.

9/11/2013: Stayed home from work with a crappy headache.

9/12/2013: Stayed home from work again, feeling extremely tired and groggy.

9/14/2013: Didn't feel well and just slept most the day.

9/21/2013: Was going to go to the scleroderma walk, but I was dead tired and not feeling great. Stayed home and didn't do much.

9/24/2013: Went to my doctor appointment with the OB/GYN. I asked questions about everything and decided I want to move forward with a hysterectomy, which can happen in about a month.

9/27/2013: Stayed home feeling crappy.

10/3/2013: Slept in and worked a half day.

10/4/2013: Went to work. Came home, took a shower, went to the theater to buy a ticket to Gravity, then went to the movie with [friends]. It was fine, although afterwards I was crying hysterically on my way home.

10/7/2013: Slept in not feeling well. Worked a half day.

10/8/2013: Slept in, went to work at lunch, got upset and was crying. Talked to [supervisor] about contacting the EAP and went home again. Also texted [friend] about counseling opportunities.

10/9/2013: Went to work. Went to my EAP appointment and talked to the counselor for a while. We agreed to have a follow-up meeting in 2 weeks.

10/15/2013: Stayed home not feeling well, then went into work for a half day.

10/16/2013: Stayed home from work just feeling crappy and crying a lot.

10/17/2013: Slept in, then went to work for a half day.

10/28/2013: Stayed home from work feeling tired and crappy.

10/29/2013: Went to work. I really need to stop taking leave. Came home and cleaned a lot.

11/4/2013: Went in to work a bit late and changed my schedule to M-F, 9-5:30, at least for now.

11/10/2013: Slept in. Took a long nap. Went to the pharmacy to refill my Reclipsen. Worked on my blog.

12/8/2013: Slept in and wasn't feeling well most the day.

12/9/2013: Stayed home from work not feeling well.

12/12/2013: [Roommate] brought me to Providence St. Peter and I checked in at 5:30 AM. The nurse took me to my room and I got all prepped for surgery. Woke up after a few hours and everything had gone fine. Spent a long time napping, then was able to get up and walk around.

12/13/2013: [Roommate] came to pick me up, I filled my prescription, then he dropped me off at home. Made plans for mom to come over tomorrow about 11 AM. The doctor said the surgery went very well; the uterus and cervix were moved, and he removed the ends of the fallopian tubes so as not to disrupt my ovaries because of all the scarring. Feeling pretty good overall; not too bloated and don't feel nauseated at all.

12/26/2013: Went to work for half the day, came home at lunch and just napped because I was so tired. Also feeling dizzy from stopping the antidepressants on the 24th, and was nauseated yesterday.

Depression was not "just in my head". It permeated my entire life and if it could be as easily resolved as everyone thinks it is by wishing it away or "choosing to be happy" and other sickening platitudes misguided onlookers usually offer, I gladly would have.

On June 23, the day I went to the mall, I remember feeling like I was in slow motion. Everything was heavy and far away. Almost underwater.

One of the times my mom was visiting me, she said she didn't know how I could cry any more. This was not a condescending remark, just an observation in genuine disbelief of how much of my day I'd already spent utterly inconsolable.

There was nowhere I could go and not cry. I cried at work, I cried in bed, I cried in the shower, I cried at the grocery store, I cried at the pharmacy while picking up my depression medication, I cried in the car, I cried while out with my friends and family, I cried in therapy. Sometimes it was like a slow burn; other occasions were more sudden and overwhelming. In any event, I felt completely out of control of my own feelings, and I hated it. Not until I was diagnosed with depression did I finally understand just how much hormonal and chemical imbalances can dominate our emotions and behavior. The bipolar incidents I'd witnessed in my own family gradually made a lot more sense.

I hated everything and couldn't enjoy anything. The added stress of trying to manage work and my condition simultaneously took a sizable toll. I have no idea what I would've done if I didn't have hundreds of hours of leave saved up at the time. It's all gone now. As such, risky soul-crushing behaviors such as dating are literally a luxury I can no longer afford.

I never understood or felt a suicidal impulse in the past. I can relate to it now, or I did a few short months ago. As Allie Brosh so eloquently put it, I didn't really want to hurt myself and I couldn't picture myself trying. I was hurting enough. I just wanted to be dead somehow and not feel pain anymore. Or maybe just to have never been born. Whatever it would take to shut off the seemingly endless hurt stretching out into the horizon.

After my hysterectomy, I decided I would take another final step to put the misery of that year behind me forever. I'd felt that Escitalopram (my antidepressant) had been helping for a while, and maybe I'd be OK without it. So I stopped abruptly, which for the record was a terrible idea. Everything else I'd done had been under the advisement of my doctor, and if I'd consulted her she would have told me to gradually taper off the medication. Instead, I just stopped completely. The next day, which happened to be Christmas Eve, I felt extremely sick to my stomach. That only lasted for a few hours. But then came the real excitement: three weeks of withdrawals! I became very light- and sound-sensitive. It didn't hurt per se, but was immensely unpleasant. I also felt disorientingly dizzy if I turned my head at all. So to avoid all these suddenly overpowering lights and sounds and dizzy spells, I would walk around at work with my head and eyes down, staring at the floor to lessen the over-stimulation that was flooding my brain. I tried to remain motionless and wondered if it would ever pass. Eventually it did. As unsettling and disturbing as it was, it still doesn't come close to being the worst aspect of my depressive episode.

And on top of all this, after the deluge of horrors that was my life for half a year, people still say depression isn't real. Or that it's not a "good enough" reason to stop dating (as if I owe anyone an explanation in the first place, but come on).

In fact, my depression was probably the defining event of my existence. By that I mean I wasn't the same person during or after as I was before. It changed me from the inside. I hated and hurt so much more than I ever knew was within the realm of possibility. And I'll never be the same again, nor do I want to. I know better now.

People have asked me what I'm going to do with myself now that I don't date anymore, like that's the only thing a human can ever do to find purpose or fill their time. I don't know, and I try to create my own answers to that question as time goes on. But the only underlying guideline in my life that I have right now is to never end up in that place again. I won't go there. I've seen what it does to me, and I won't let it happen ever again. I don't care what it takes, or what that means for my future. Nothing is worth that. My health and my sanity are worth more than that. And I would hope they will be a priority to everyone who told me to "never give up" on love, as if that matters more than my health. No thanks. I would rather never give up on myself. My life isn't about you, or what you want for me, or other people. It was about that for many years, and I'm over it. It's about attending to my own needs and desires for once in my damn life and I will not apologize for that or explain it anymore.

I couldn't tell you what's in my future. All I care about is that depression is in my past.