disrespect

I think the zoloft is wearing off. Or maybe it is just that autumn has arrived (sort of it is still high 70s and humid, but) and my general winter malaise is setting in. Or maybe it is that I get really pissed about the asshole strangers that roam the streets of ypsi and create havoc through thieving, exploiting, pimping, shooting and threatening.

I'm having trouble mustering up my usual compassion for the human race. Actually, I am pretty much over most people. My therapist says it is normal to feel uneasy during these trying times that the world is facing, but I think I am more than uneasy. I am downright hostile. People make me furious. I give the most evil looks to drivers who pass me and then turn right in front of me and cut me off. If my eye sockets had the capability to shoot out metal, bullets would probably go flying during these rage times.

The other evening we came home to a really nasty note left on our car that was parked in front of our house. It said, "Nice job parking u stupid motherfucker next time it won't be just a note."

K and I both felt threatened by the nastiness and incredibly ill at ease. Right then, I envisioned harming the person who left the note--this is not like me--I am usually a peace loving person, but I am tired of animosity and violence and I am not quite sure that sitting back and doing nothing or even calling out the nastiness for what it is or offering up kindness in place of the nastiness is going to make one bit of difference.

Then today I was at a place when a wallet theft was discovered. I won't draw attention to the place where it happened, but just because a door in an office building is left unlocked for a couple of hours does not mean it is okay for some asshole to come in off the street and rip off someone's wallet and then start spending on the person's credit cards. The office was left open by accident... and just for a bit. So, I suspect that aforementioned asshole or multiple assholes consistently scope out the offices in this place and take willy nilly whatever he/she/they want to.

Also, in the last three weeks, I have heard gunshots at night in my neighborhood multiple times.

I'm constantly cautious in my own house and yard. Most of the time, I lock my bike to itself when I am running in the house for something; I lock my front door whenever I am in the backyard or basement; I keep our bicycles inside our house not in our garage cause my neighbors have had their garages broken into multiple times. I clean up streams of wrappers and liquor bottles--swiss rolls, slim jims, mini vodkas, cheese curls, condoms--from my front yard frequently.

This might seem like petty shit going on in my neighborhood and town, but really it is completely indicative of this larger culture of people just straight up disrespecting one another. Frankly, I do not think there is a cure for disrespect. Can we teach respect? maybe not. Can we model respect in our interactions with one another?? maybe; maybe not. What I do know is that if we cannot create respect between people and respect for this planet then nothing is ever going to change for the better.

Here I sit a prisoner rights activist; a prison abolition dreamer, and I feel so cynical that I can no longer come up with creative ideas for how we might create "safer" communities. You can only give so much...

In the Iceman Cometh, by Eugene O'Neill, Larry Slade states in response to why he has left the anarchist movement, "You ask me why I quit the movement I had a lot of good reasons. One was myself, and another was my comrades, and the last was the breed of swine called man in general."

I think I'll explore his 3 reasons in more detail over the next few days here on this blog. Why, because at least I can write about the ferocity of the lack of respect hovering around me and the rage that is boiling up under my skin and turning to cynicism instead of action.

updates-emotions, bicycles, and baby-dreams

it has been a hard few weeks.
my emotions have bounced around from feeling pretty normal--content--and laughing a lot to feeling weepy and out of control.

I went back to work last week and it went okay. I made it through, but my heart is not totally present in the field of caring about others, right now, cause I am still focusing on me.

And I think that is totally fine.

I mean really I feel like a wet towel that has been rung out and then hung out on the porch to dry and then drenched again with a cold down pour of winter rain then rung out again and hung out again and on and on.

But through all of this, k and I have been supported by such loving and supportive friends. Good people who have held us by being in their presences, by showering us with kind words, with dinner, with company, with laughter, with camaraderie.

It is so good to be loved so well.

I'm back on my bicycle. I rode on Saturday with kk and hit 2,400 miles on my 9 month old Trek Portland. My plans for more mileage by the bicycle's first birthday were interrupted by the whole pregnancy and then the lack there of. So, now I am hoping to get back up to good mileage by commuting as many days of the week as I can. My dream is to hit 4,000 miles by the end of May--my baby bike's first birthday. It is really a long shot, but...

On Sunday, i fixed up my Redline 925. I put on new brake pads and fixed the rear tire and took her on a sweet little ride around town.

Yesterday and today, I rode my Portland to and from work and my crotch is tender. I had not been on my bike since December 8 which is a really long time for me. I Forgot what a hard, slender seat can do to those tender, fleshy parts. But, all in all, it feels so good; it feels good to have these controllable parts of my life back.

I started looking for therapists this week, too. And my initial visits have been exhausting. I have been revisiting the traumatic parts of the last few months and that causes a lot of residue to surface.

Last night I dreamed that kk gave birth to a baby and we were putting the baby up for adoption. This brother and sister were adopting the kid, but I was arguing about how we had tried for so long to get pregnant we couldn't give the baby away. And then I won the argument and we took back the baby and we were both breastfeeding her.

That is only the second pregnancy/baby dream I have ever had in my whole life. I had one dream when I first found out I was pregnant and once again it involved me breast feeding the infant.

I'm not sure what the dream last night means, but I think it has something to do with letting go.

Tomorrow is our 9 year anniversary. So long we have had this love; we have been through been through thick messes and clear loveliness. tomorrow I'll write an ode to my kk here on this good old blog.