Well, I wish I could start this post by saying that I'm in a new, wonderful place with life. Unfortunately, my life isn't a movie. The last 2 1/2 months have been really, really tough. I know, I sound like a broken record. Honestly, that's part of the reason I haven't written. Heck, I started another journal about a year ago (before that the only journal I kept was my 9 months in New Zealand) and I realized a few days ago I hadn't even written in that for a month. My journal this past year has been the place I put my thoughts and feelings that I was too afraid or too embarrassed to really share with anyone else; but, the last month or so, I haven't even wanted to write them down. I've been having such a constant downward spiral of thoughts that I haven't even wanted to remember them - in any way, shape, or form.
After my post in September, I spent all of my energy working on feeling better physically. Actually, in September, I pretty much didn't have any energy to do anything at all. My Fibro flare-up literally sapped me of any and all energy. I was in so much pain that I could barely get myself off the toilet. (See, aren't you wishing I still wrote in the journal instead?) So, my mom finally came up to the Cities to bring me back down to their (Mom and Dad's) house. I've been spending most of my time with them or Lora and Chris (my sister and brother-in-law) since then. I've really only been in the Cities when I have doctor's appointments. So, yes, I haven't been working for almost three full months. I'm sure for some of you, that sounds like the world's best vacation - and though I enjoy spending time with my family, it's been hard. It's been hard being physically exhausted and in pain. It's been hard worrying about financing. It's been hard feeling like a burden. It's been hard trying to cope with my new reality. It's just been hard.
I was having difficulties feeling like I was losing friends - or, I guess, just the idea that my friend's lives didn't end just because my life was stuck in neutral. It's definitely a challenge to be chronically ill and try to keep "normal" relationships. So often I have family members, friends, even my therapist say, "Well, maybe you should try a support group for chronically ill people - some even have dating sites", etc. However, I don't want to make being "sick" my "normal". Perhaps it's naive, but I still think of being sick the same way someone with the flu does - it's something I'll get past and then I want to go back to living my normal life... but then, I realize my "normal life" has always been controlled by my physical health. So, I guess I want to have my OPTIMAL life... not MY normal life. Still, as I get older, I'm finally understanding how hard it is for people to understand chronic illness if they've never been seriously ill. Heck, I have a couple of friends with chronic illness and even they will sometimes have a hard time understanding my situation and I theirs. One thing that seems to be a common thread in relationships where both are chronically ill, health is brought up a lot. Pretty much always - and I don't want that for my life. I'm not saying that I don't love my friends who are chronically ill, it's just that I don't want all of my friends and my complete life existence to be comparing symptoms, medications, online research, and doctor visits. I already deal with my health enough. I don't want it to be the main topic with my friends; but, then when you're unable to do ANYTHING for three months... it's hard for it not to be. Obviously I have some amazing friends who've checked in to see how I am, asked for me to hang out, etc. but I've been sitting around unable to do anything so pretty soon one starts to feel abandoned. It was also hard that I started having my flare-up at one of my closest friend's Going Away Party and then I "broke-up" with the closest thing I've had to a relationship within a couple of weeks.
So, to continue beating a dead horse, my health - mental, physical, and emotional - was in a pretty bad place for September and most of October. Finally in October, I realized the Zoloft was working on my mental/emotional health. I was still having a hard time, but I was able to process it a little better. The only downfall? It didn't do anything for my physical health. So, mid-October I switched from Zoloft to Savella per my rheumatologist. Savella has recently been FDA approved for treatment of Fibro, whereas Zoloft has not; but, since they both act in a similar way, my doctor advised to end the Zoloft when I started the Savella. Near the end of October, I felt mentally a lot clearer and suddenly had a little bit more energy. I was still in severe pain, but I wasn't sleeping as much, I was able to push myself to make food one day, things that were a very big deal for me. As those improvements started, I started to look to the future again. I think of it sort of as a "flu symptom". You know, when you're sick with the flu you always think to yourself, "When I feel better I'm going to go to the gym" or "When I'm not this sick, I'm going to stop eating those cheeseburgers." whatever it may be. Any time that I'm able to see even the tiniest light at the end of the tunnel, I tend to re-evaluate my life. So, near the end of October I started thinking of an organization I would like to start and was very, very optimistic about it. As I'm not sure if I'm going to do it, I'm not going to give details as I'm not sure what I would need to start said organization, but essentially it would be for people who are chronically ill - but not a "support group". It was just something to distract me - something to focus my pent-up mental energy on. (I mean, by now, I was going completely stir-crazy being locked inside my own body.)
All of that came to a screeching halt only a few days later...
To be completely honest, I have never been very political. I don't really care about a lot of the "little" issues and, yes, I pretty much just listen to my mother (a Lutheran minister) and my sister (a Legal Aid attorney) for opinions on the big issues. I mean, I like to think that I'm not completely brain-washed and have opinions on a lot of things because of my own, personal experiences; but, I guess I can't guarantee that because we've always agreed on all of the "big" issues. My family is pretty liberal. Actually, that may be an understatement. My family is very liberal. I, even if my family was not, feel like I pretty much have to be liberal. I say that because I am an Asian, immigrant, bisexual, chronically ill female. In many of the "big" issues - I personally feel like I would be a pretty big hypocrite if I was conservative. That's just my opinion, however.
Anyway, nearing the 2016 Presidential election, I was the ignorant liberal who thought that there was no way Donald Trump would be elected. Still, even before the election, I did start to notice more and more blatant prejudice because of all the election news coverage. Now, remember, I've also been unable to pretty much do anything for almost two full months at this time and so I started to "engage" in "discussions" on social media (read: Facebook). I tried to not piss anyone off, but I did start to ask questions. And, admittedly, they weren't necessarily rhetorical questions - but someone wasn't going to change my mind by answering them, if you know what I mean. Perhaps I was being "snarky" and "accusatory" - but, in all honesty, it gave me something to do. That was until Halloween.
At my place of work (yes, even though I haven't been able to work, I am still employed. That is one saving grace and sometimes part of the reason I feel like I'm unable to leave the company. I don't want to leave because it's a bad company, but it's not the right job for me. However, I feel stuck because of my tenure, the benefits, and my health.) we're able to dress up for Halloween. As it is a job where we work with the public, the costumes do have to be approved. I wasn't there, obviously, but there were many pics and posts from my friends/coworkers on social media (again, read: Facebook). I was really jealous because I love dressing up and seeing the kids (they come into the store to trick-or-treat) and seeing all of my friends/coworkers in their costumes, too. I will admit that I was very surprised when one of my coworkers posted on his FB page that he was a "Gangster" for Halloween. We work in a mall, so I didn't really feel it was appropriate. Plus, he is black, so honestly, I felt like that was sort of risky for him (He's from Africa and has a relatively thick accent). (NOTE: Yes, I am aware this can be taken as racist and prejudiced. I am very much aware of my own implicit bias to the idea and I apologize for it. At the same time, I'm willing to admit this was a thought that went through my head.) Other than thinking it wasn't appropriate and risky, I really didn't pay too much attention to it until later on that day when I saw another post where he (aforementioned coworker) and two other of my coworkers were in the back room taking a picture together. With the picture, the "gangster" wrote a small paragraph about the photo. He stated that the pic was showing our (the store's) "cultural diversity and acceptance". He stated how it was showing the "white boy" (his words, not mine) dressed as an African, the African (him) dressed as an African American, and the African American dressed as a Hispanic. Since I won't be sharing the picture, basically it was a white male in a traditional African shirt, the aforementioned colleague in his "gangster" costume, and an African American colleague with a bandana on her head and a plaid button up shirt with only the top button buttoned. My initial reaction when I saw this post was to just shake my head, think of how ignorant it was, and move on... but then something else happened. Over the course of the next three days - over five other coworkers shared the post to show their "cultural diversity and acceptance". Now, as I mentioned before, I had a lot of time on my hands and had finally decided I was willing to engage - even on the controversial topics. So, I wrote a post on my personal Facebook profile - didn't use the picture, didn't use any names - basically stating how it's sad to see this sort of prejudice and racism being passed as "cultural acceptance". In my opinion, it's not. It was stereotyping and blatant racism. I was aware this would probably stir up some hard feelings, but I wasn't prepared for the responses it received. As one of my friend described them, the responses were "spazztastic". Basically I was told I was instigating racism by saying it was racist, I was throwing shade to our entire store, and just hating on my coworkers. As one person put it, "people who actually show up for work". So, it became personal very quickly and six people "unfriended" me and four of the blocked me completely. It was definitely a wake-up call.
A few days after that, I got into another heated discussion when a cousin's ex-wife posted that Somalians should never be able to vote or become citizens. In both situations I worked very (VERY) hard to keep my composure and to not "sink to their level". I gave my reasons very calmly and tried to write eloquent, educated responses. Still, I was told I was "snarky", "accusatory", "obnoxious", "a bully", "a hater", "looking for everyone's pity", and, yes, I was actually accused of being "really the only racist". Very unlike me, I let it slide off my back and moved on. I figured that once the election was over, the posts would end anyway. Yes, people would complain about the outcome for awhile, but then life would go on...
Then, November 8th happened. I couldn't believe it. I'm still in shock - and I've been on a downward spiral of grief, depression, and defeat ever since. I had written a long Facebook post before the election (and before all of the above drama) about why I could never vote for Donald Trump. For me, it wasn't even a question. In my mind there was no way their were enough people in this country who wanted to set back our progress so many, many years. I knew people were upset about the government, I knew prejudiced and racist and misogynistic people still existed... I just didn't realize how many. I underestimated the hate. I underestimated the ignorance. I underestimated the privilege.
A few posts ago, I wrote about hitting Rock Bottom earlier this year. My depression had gotten out of hand. Even in my last post, I wrote that I wasn't sure I wanted to keep living the rest of my life this way. Pretty much in both posts I had lost all fight. I had run out of gas. I had been beaten by "the game". I was giving in. I quit. I didn't want to take on "the man" anymore. Basically, I didn't want to live life... since the election, however, I find that I have fight. I don't just have fight, I have a lot of fight. However, with my health, my finances, my current situation - I'm at a loss of how I can make a difference. Sometimes it feels like I'm a truck stuck on an icy road - before, I assumed I was completely out of gas. Now I realize I have a ton of gas, but even as I step on the gas - I'm just spinning my wheels and not going anywhere. So, what do I do? Do I keep stepping on the gas until I actually do run out? Or do I just sit and wait here until it runs out by itself. I guess I only have one other option - to get out and find another way... but, I'm not sure how to do that. I would love to be able to volunteer my time, but since I'm hoping to get back to work soon, I can't risk running out my physical energy. I would love to donate to a cause - any cause, but I'm in such a financial bind, I recently considered starting a GoFundMe page just to pay my bills (instead I borrowed money from family, who really didn't have it to lend). So, I've been trying to become an advocate. I've been trying to educate. I've been trying to be a better person for the people around me, the people who may not have a voice, the people who may not be able to say what they want to say... but, it's not even been a month yet and I'm so tired. I'm so tired of not only the ignorance, but the unwillingness to learn and the sheer hate.
I guess my boiling point came last night when I realized that my cousin had deleted me on Facebook. The cousin who's ex-wife had the racist post. I approached him to ask him why he had deleted me. At first he tried to lie and say it was for something else, but we both know why he did it and I told him that. In that moment (and when I read the hateful messages he keeps sending me since) I realized that the bottom line was that my cousin chose his racist ex-wife over his Korean cousin. He's known me my entire life. He's aware of my race, the fact that I'm an immigrant, etc. and yet he agrees that people who aren't born here should never be able to be citizens or to vote. His last message to me was "Fuck you. Boo hoo. Grow up. I don't care what you think."
So, that brings me back to the organization I thought of starting. How could I ever think someone who hasn't been ill could understand or empathize with someone who's always been ill if we can't even understand or empathize white privilege, racism, prejudice, or our own implicit bias? I hope I find answers to some of life's questions soon... until then, I will fight the fight in the only way I can see possible right now. I will write.
The title of this post is from a song off the "The Hamilton Mixtape" coming out December 2nd. It's a small joy in this complicated life. Check it out!
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