Tonight is New Year's Eve. Melissa and I will all but certainly follow our usual New Year's tradition and watch "When Harry Met Sally" once again. It's very nice to have our own life with its own traditions instead of following those dictated by others. There are so many things I am free to do right at long last but this is one with which I have managed to follow through. We don't get tired of this movie yet we enjoy it more some years than others. One of the keys is to avoid watching it during any time of the year and the other is a main benefit of watching a movie so many times. We can chat about it while it's playing and neither of us gets annoyed or misses anything. Thus, I look forward to our evening.
All in all, it hasn't been the best of years. Our finances remain in the hopeless category yet I know one or two good breaks are scheduled to come our way. Melissa is on a career track at work and has been for some time. Now, she has but two rungs remaining on the ladder of goals she set for herself. Each one will take a year or more and I'm leaning toward the more but I expect her to get her own store. I don't know when it might happen, which store it might be or even which company she might be working for by that time but I have faith in her. She works had with persistance and she can take a metaphorical punch better than anyone I know.
For my side of things, I have been writing. Most of my projects are mostly finished but I have come to accept mostly finished as a good state of being. As far as I'm concerned, no project will be truly finished until my signature is on a publishing contract, galleys have been corrected and I find out how to make public appearances even with my symptoms. It won't bear the slightest resemblance to easy but, it it did, I wouldn't need to be involved. I don't do the easy stuff. To put it more practically, I am not letting myself get caught up in steps that are well down the road because I don't understand them yet. The great terrifying unknowns are losing their ability to paralyze me at least where writing is concerned.
Another old habit of mine involves declaring defeat because I haven't passed the great test yet. Great and terrifying tests stand ahead of me yet I have to remember to give them my best when they arrive instead of fretting about them while today's lesser tests get no attention. The best example of how I've improved in practical matters is that I have paid enough attention to the power, phone and water bills to not have to stress over how to get them turned back on. It isn't as easy as it should be for me to declare this to be a form of victory. You know who's voice delivers an assessment of everything I've done measured against perfection and I fall short every tiime.
It took a long time for me to begin the process of letting go the higher standards I held for me. Trying to hold myself to the highest possible standards led to very little but failure and failure was unacceptable. In some ways, life was easier when I had an "eject and die" button to press. When I failed to meet those higher standards and then dropped below what I believed the theoretical "crumb bum" would achieve, I could decide to stop wasting oxygen and end it all. Of course, I failed at that and the shame made me do what I should have done in the first place. I learned to cope with failure first and I've since found a sense in achievement in coping with what I found below my standards.
Let's face it: the obstacles in my way are not the sort that everyone handles. You might be surprised at how well most people in the disabled community handle life's difficulties. That's why I don't try to find standards to use in making comparisons. If you're hurting, I believe you and believe that your achievements are as special as the obstacles can be difficult. A lot of people out there seem to have it easy until it all falls apart one day. They might not have had obstacles to overcome so that they learned the right skills in coping. Try to avoid looking down on the high and mighty when they fall because being high and mighty is poor training for a fall.
Over the past year, I have learned to fall and fall then fall some more. Things got bad but I always got back up with Melissa's help. Therefore, the trials ahead for 2016 scare the hell out of me but I believe we will survive them. We might even come out ahead somehow. I'm not sure it's possible but this is the domain of faith and hope. When we got a car totaled, we replaced it with a better one where we sit more comfortably and everything works despite the fact that it wasn't new. The car payment and increased insurance have been tough but we scrape by.
Tonight, I plan to spend a moment being proud of scraping by somehow. It could all come crashing down on us tomorrow but tonight marks another year of making too few resources stretch to cover too many needs. The numbers didn't balance out in every category but they did in enough to get by. The agony was too much for me some of the time but we kept it bearable most of the time. I wake each day differently from my distant past. Instead of planning how to end it all that day, I plan to find the best way to putter on. That's where we find our pride in this household. Today was another day when we didn't give and held tightly to our vows.
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Saturday, December 12, 2015
Friends, Countrymen and Bullies of All Shapes and Sizes
I overextended myself yesterday trying to stick my head up to be noticed in my various outlets and causes that I support. Still, I'm back today wanting to rant about politics. As usual, I'm going to try keeping my political voice as non-partisan as possible but you do know that I'm not just a Democrat to avoid the choices of Republican and Independent. At this moment, foreign policy is dominating the political scene. ISIS, the Muslim version of the KKK on steroids, has been trying to goad the West into a war for as long as it has existed. Unfortunately, the West has certain fools and court jesters willing to pay in the blood of other men and women to serve their common cause with a group better described by an Arabic acronym I've never seen spelled in English or Arabic but is pronounced something like "Dash." Phonetically, "d'YOOSH" might be much closer.
ISIS claims to be Muslim the same way that the Kluckers here at home have claimed to be Christian for centuries. They are a violent gang that exists to maintain their scary reputation so that they can live off the ill gotten gains of extortion. They recruit from a vulnerable population: wannabe rebels and revolutionaries in search of a cause. Having studied the Bible from different points of view for decades, I can tell you that holy texts are a poor place to learn basic reading. They are advanced political textbooks involving a certain range of views and the unchallenged prejudices of the day.
Over the many centuries during which the books of the Bible were written, there was no such concept as "gay rights." Militaristic cultures accepted homosexual acts as a matter of course. Take a very large group of men and put them through the extreme emotions of military life in those days and those men will become very lonely. These men will be of all types before they are put into the casting mold intended to create conformist soldiers who can be put into the sort of unit that will take terrible losses in any war. Extremely poor hygeine, lack of access to reliable supply lines and exhaustion left them vulnerable to disease. The only thing within an infantry soldier's control was staying in close formation so that you and your shield mates protected each other. This led to a closeness that I try to depict in my military fiction but cannot truly understand without having been in the military.
Don't get me wrong. I'm mostly describing the Greco-Roman militaristic cultures when I speak of homosexuality being openly accepted. Somehow, the monotheists managed to get morality all mixed up in the subject. The obviousness of men comforting other men was driven underground but I would bet money that I don't have against you if you think it stopped. After all, no one stopped having wars where men found themselves cold and terrified. When Roman legionaire Mythicus had to go on guard duty before setting up his shelter, Bestus Friendus was the only thing between him and freezing overnight because someone stole his shelter and ate his rations. Mythicus and Bestus would do anything for each other. Sparta was fairly liberal in their own brutal ways. Boys would grow up immersed in military training where they saw no women including their mothers. During the campaign season, a lot of shield-mate relationships would form. At home, men considered too old for military service joined the women who had been doing all the work including decision making. Heterosexual relationships were largely reserved for childmaking.
Meanwhile, a boy as generally obedient as I was, would have been stoned to death at least once a week according to the law. When people want to get back to Biblical principles or Koranic principles (I'm only guessing at this term.) they have to decide which principles to emphasize and which to ignore. I'm not even claiming some shining of honor for modernity. We have far too many laws on the books. Prosecutorial discretion is supposed to be about mercy, compassion and it is a mechanism by which young lives should be saved from the ruin of a prison record. Instead, it ends up being a means by which race based injustice is enforced. There are so many laws on the books that a police officer could (but probably won't) arrest everyone he dislikes enough.
This entry is into its third or fourth day as technical problems have made it difficult to finish. Thankfully, the program saves my work frequently so I lost relatively little of this entry and I broke off with my little fear of police. For some reason, I'm willing to tell people that I have disorders involving irrational fears but I have a lot more trouble explaining what those fears are. One of them happens to be fear of police interaction. Since I happen to be white with no criminal record, I don't fall into any statistical categories where those few bad apples perform their misdeeds. At the same time, I happen to have had more unpleasant interactions with police than pleasant since I got out of convenience store clerking. We're talking mostly very mild stuff like a couple of traffic/parking tickets over the course of my driving life from back when I could drive.
Without getting into any details, these were mild issues where it is likely that I was wrong to some degree anyway. I wished to be given the benefit of the doubt especially during the time when the officer did not witness the single car accident that happened behind me. He gave me a ticket for "failure to yield right of way" when I pulled out into traffic and my limited senses told me that I had plenty of time. The other driver might have been hurt so I stopped in an attempt to be a good Samaritan. The other driver was not hurt but started talking about it being my fault which I thought was a natural reaction. The cop showed up suddenly, took our stories and issued me a ticket.
With the number of times a policeman has saved my life or prevented me from being harmed in some way, I keep a relaxed attitude toward what are honest mistakes at worst. When no one gets shot or has any other form of violence inflicted on him (me), I believe in giving latitude. I'll have to be fair toward authority figures in general because my parents always believe that [whatever] is my fault. I didn't want to call 911 when I was scared half to death by what might have been someone looking in my window with a flashlight. It also might have been someone walking by who was using a flashlight sensibly in the dark. I don't feel safe so I would prefer to live on the second floor or higher in a place with a security door.
Joke as I may about Peeping Toms, my real fear is that I might look out my window and see my father looking in at me. It only happened on and that was in 1992. As a college freshman, I fouled up setting up my phone. We had outgoing only data lines at the time which weren't labeled in my room anyway. After a week of not being able to reach me, he showed up at the window right above my bed. He was being paranoid but I can't exactly throw stones.
The truth is that my house has so much trash that needs to be taken out on the Appalachian trail hike to the dumpster that I might get a ticket for fire code violations or something. In that moment of terror for my life, I chose keeping my problems visually concealed over having my life protected. I can even examine this further. If a cop wrote me a summons to appear before a judge, I might find some way to benefit from it. The cop and the judge would both see the extent of my disability and a door to some help might open up. The (completely made up) "Christian Fund for Helping Shut-Ins Move Their Trash Past Where They Can Walk" might appear and improve my life considerably. Sure, there would be questions about why Melissa feels so awful that she needs to take naps of varying length after work. These are not voluntary naps when they happen but are more of a collapse from exhaustion. Yes, she has a doctor appointment scheduled about this and the bloodwork is done.. The previous appointment or two was/were canceled on account of a sick doctor.
However, I am terrified that the system will share my father's opinions on me and resort to a straw man argument that I believe I should be resolved of all blame..Just thinking about the potential conflict is making me twitch violently. Melissa felt she had to call me from work while she was at dinner because she could tell I was down. I appreciated it a whole lot and was able to sleep some afterward. That ended when Madeline decided that she was hungry. I would have fed her on time except that we were out of food. I what what's going to happen. My sweet baby cat will slip up one day and yowl out, "Feed me Seymour! I'm Hongry!"
ISIS claims to be Muslim the same way that the Kluckers here at home have claimed to be Christian for centuries. They are a violent gang that exists to maintain their scary reputation so that they can live off the ill gotten gains of extortion. They recruit from a vulnerable population: wannabe rebels and revolutionaries in search of a cause. Having studied the Bible from different points of view for decades, I can tell you that holy texts are a poor place to learn basic reading. They are advanced political textbooks involving a certain range of views and the unchallenged prejudices of the day.
Over the many centuries during which the books of the Bible were written, there was no such concept as "gay rights." Militaristic cultures accepted homosexual acts as a matter of course. Take a very large group of men and put them through the extreme emotions of military life in those days and those men will become very lonely. These men will be of all types before they are put into the casting mold intended to create conformist soldiers who can be put into the sort of unit that will take terrible losses in any war. Extremely poor hygeine, lack of access to reliable supply lines and exhaustion left them vulnerable to disease. The only thing within an infantry soldier's control was staying in close formation so that you and your shield mates protected each other. This led to a closeness that I try to depict in my military fiction but cannot truly understand without having been in the military.
Don't get me wrong. I'm mostly describing the Greco-Roman militaristic cultures when I speak of homosexuality being openly accepted. Somehow, the monotheists managed to get morality all mixed up in the subject. The obviousness of men comforting other men was driven underground but I would bet money that I don't have against you if you think it stopped. After all, no one stopped having wars where men found themselves cold and terrified. When Roman legionaire Mythicus had to go on guard duty before setting up his shelter, Bestus Friendus was the only thing between him and freezing overnight because someone stole his shelter and ate his rations. Mythicus and Bestus would do anything for each other. Sparta was fairly liberal in their own brutal ways. Boys would grow up immersed in military training where they saw no women including their mothers. During the campaign season, a lot of shield-mate relationships would form. At home, men considered too old for military service joined the women who had been doing all the work including decision making. Heterosexual relationships were largely reserved for childmaking.
Meanwhile, a boy as generally obedient as I was, would have been stoned to death at least once a week according to the law. When people want to get back to Biblical principles or Koranic principles (I'm only guessing at this term.) they have to decide which principles to emphasize and which to ignore. I'm not even claiming some shining of honor for modernity. We have far too many laws on the books. Prosecutorial discretion is supposed to be about mercy, compassion and it is a mechanism by which young lives should be saved from the ruin of a prison record. Instead, it ends up being a means by which race based injustice is enforced. There are so many laws on the books that a police officer could (but probably won't) arrest everyone he dislikes enough.
This entry is into its third or fourth day as technical problems have made it difficult to finish. Thankfully, the program saves my work frequently so I lost relatively little of this entry and I broke off with my little fear of police. For some reason, I'm willing to tell people that I have disorders involving irrational fears but I have a lot more trouble explaining what those fears are. One of them happens to be fear of police interaction. Since I happen to be white with no criminal record, I don't fall into any statistical categories where those few bad apples perform their misdeeds. At the same time, I happen to have had more unpleasant interactions with police than pleasant since I got out of convenience store clerking. We're talking mostly very mild stuff like a couple of traffic/parking tickets over the course of my driving life from back when I could drive.
Without getting into any details, these were mild issues where it is likely that I was wrong to some degree anyway. I wished to be given the benefit of the doubt especially during the time when the officer did not witness the single car accident that happened behind me. He gave me a ticket for "failure to yield right of way" when I pulled out into traffic and my limited senses told me that I had plenty of time. The other driver might have been hurt so I stopped in an attempt to be a good Samaritan. The other driver was not hurt but started talking about it being my fault which I thought was a natural reaction. The cop showed up suddenly, took our stories and issued me a ticket.
With the number of times a policeman has saved my life or prevented me from being harmed in some way, I keep a relaxed attitude toward what are honest mistakes at worst. When no one gets shot or has any other form of violence inflicted on him (me), I believe in giving latitude. I'll have to be fair toward authority figures in general because my parents always believe that [whatever] is my fault. I didn't want to call 911 when I was scared half to death by what might have been someone looking in my window with a flashlight. It also might have been someone walking by who was using a flashlight sensibly in the dark. I don't feel safe so I would prefer to live on the second floor or higher in a place with a security door.
Joke as I may about Peeping Toms, my real fear is that I might look out my window and see my father looking in at me. It only happened on and that was in 1992. As a college freshman, I fouled up setting up my phone. We had outgoing only data lines at the time which weren't labeled in my room anyway. After a week of not being able to reach me, he showed up at the window right above my bed. He was being paranoid but I can't exactly throw stones.
The truth is that my house has so much trash that needs to be taken out on the Appalachian trail hike to the dumpster that I might get a ticket for fire code violations or something. In that moment of terror for my life, I chose keeping my problems visually concealed over having my life protected. I can even examine this further. If a cop wrote me a summons to appear before a judge, I might find some way to benefit from it. The cop and the judge would both see the extent of my disability and a door to some help might open up. The (completely made up) "Christian Fund for Helping Shut-Ins Move Their Trash Past Where They Can Walk" might appear and improve my life considerably. Sure, there would be questions about why Melissa feels so awful that she needs to take naps of varying length after work. These are not voluntary naps when they happen but are more of a collapse from exhaustion. Yes, she has a doctor appointment scheduled about this and the bloodwork is done.. The previous appointment or two was/were canceled on account of a sick doctor.
However, I am terrified that the system will share my father's opinions on me and resort to a straw man argument that I believe I should be resolved of all blame..Just thinking about the potential conflict is making me twitch violently. Melissa felt she had to call me from work while she was at dinner because she could tell I was down. I appreciated it a whole lot and was able to sleep some afterward. That ended when Madeline decided that she was hungry. I would have fed her on time except that we were out of food. I what what's going to happen. My sweet baby cat will slip up one day and yowl out, "Feed me Seymour! I'm Hongry!"
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